Underground
by PanicButton
Summary: A happy healed Spencer goes to London with Jason to buy a book, but Spence sees something which brings back memories of the recent past. grr rubbish but cant tell you whats gonna happen!
1. Chapter 1

Underground

**A/N Yet another Sequel to go with Scarecrow, This, Grooming Dr Reid and Bookstore. Probably best you read those first.**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds still isn't mine.

_Turn around. Turn around. Turn the car around and get the hell out of here. Right now. Don't go back. Do not go back there. – Mort Rainey._

Reid sat in front of the computer his eyes fixed onto the screen and a small frown on his brow. He was looking for new stock and had found something he really needed to have. "Justinus and Cornelius Nepos." He mumbled and quickly flicked the mouse over another link. Pictures of birds popped up on the monitor. "Jason?" he called out. "You were looking for new prints weren't you?"

Gideon walked across from the back of the small bookstore they were running together. Making a substantial loss right now. Reid had suggested they go online and set up a site for their shop – his shop – their shop - the Franks but Gideon had talked him out of it. Keep it as it is – why spoil what is working so nicely. Except it wasn't really working was it. Both of them paid out huge sums of money to buy books, maps and prints for the shop the hung onto them lovingly and couldn't sell them on. First law of owning a shop: sell things.

Jason came over and stood looking at the screen Reid had showing and smiled. An indulgence. "So what did you see this time?"

"Prints of birds." Fingers tapping on the desk.

"I can see, but show me what you have been sitting here staring at for nearly an hour." He rested a hand on Reid's shoulder and he was happy that now Spencer didn't flinch away from contact.

"Justinus and Cornelius Nepos. Jason I need this book." And he flicked the screen back to three pictures of a battered of book. "It is beautiful. His fingers ran slowly over the page."

"You don't have enough books Spencer? If you want it buy it, if you have the money."

Spencer pulled a pained face. "I don't. I will have to trade. I need that book though."

"Give them a call and work something out then. Where is it? We can lock up and go tomorrow." Gideon loved to indulge his boy. "They will be here soon."

"Ah well that's the other problem. It's in England. I can book a flight and go though. That's not really a problem – is it?" He knew Gideon wouldn't let him go alone. He was still keeping a very close eye on Spencer, and a trip overseas would have to be supervised, even if Spencer seemed like his old self now, it wouldn't take too much for him to slip again. Jason squeezed Spencer's shoulder.

"Go get ready. We can talk about this later." He walked back towards the kitchen.

…………

The guests arrived about half an hour later. It was the first time Reid had been with the whole team for a long time. Morgan and Garcia arrived together and Reid received a huge hug and kiss on the cheek from Pe20n, and a manly hug from Morgan. Prentiss nodded at Spencer, still feeling uncomfortable around this strange man. JJ wanted to give him an enormous hug but smiled at him and his nervous little wave instead. Hotch gave Spencer a wonderful smile that tied his stomach in a knot and made him feel dizzy. Why did life have to be so complicated?

They sat around the table and ate the food Gideon had managed to prepare in the microwave. No one commented on the lack of cooking facilities, no one asked Reid how he was feeling. They acted like everything was normal - as though nothing had ever happened.

"So Reid, what are your plans? Emily suddenly blurted out. Everyone looked at her. They had agreed not to discuss future plans or past happenings, and Reid sighed and smiled.

"I am going to England to purchase a book. In actuality I am going to see if I can trade for some rare editions I have already. Would you like to see them?" He was on his feet and smiling and talking too fast. "Justinus and Cornelius Nepos, do you know it? Come with me I will show you. Help me choose something to swap. There might be a book here you like Emily." They sat and watched him walk out of the kitchen. They saw the slight limp and they saw the shaking hands.

"No its ok Reid." And she returned to picking at the food in front of her.

………….

Reid stood alone in the shop. Always alone, even when there was company. He wanted to talk to Hotch, he wanted to smell that apple shampoo again. He wanted Morgan to tease him, and Garcia to tell jokes he didn't understand. He wanted to be able to look in JJ's eyes and see a pretty lady. But it was gone and all he had now was books. Things he could hold and love but couldn't hurt him back; except for this book – this book he needed. More than needed, he lusted after this book. He couldn't explain it. That book had to be his. He looked at it mocking him on laptop sitting on the counter. He picked up the laptop and slammed the lid shut. It flew across the room with a satisfying smash as it hit the wall. Garcia stood in the door way watching. She watched him walk his strange Reid walk across the shop and leave

She turned and called back "Reid and I are going for a little walk. Wont be long." And she was hot on his heals.

She saw him walking with his head down across the road and then down a small side road.

…………

Reid sat on the bench and pulled his watch down past his cuff, then carefully undid the buttons and rolled up his sleeve. He sat for a while looking at the cuts and burns and scars, then took a cigarette from one pocket and a lighter from the other. He lit up and took a deep lungful of poisonous smoke and closed his eyes thinking of things he needed to try to forget.

"You shouldn't be smoking." A voice from next to him.

"I'm not. Not really." Spencer turned his head and opened his eyes to look at Garcia. "Why did you follow me?"

"I thought you might want company."

"I need to do this alone Pen."

"I can't walk away knowing what you are going to do, sweetcheeks. How about a hug instead?" She slowly took the cigarette from Reid's shaking hands and ground it into the floor with her platformed toes. Then wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Does Gideon know you are still doing this?"

In a whisper, "He will now." He was shaking.

"You really do want that book you were talking about don't you?" She could feel him nodding as he rested his head on her shoulder. "I can help you book the tickets, I know some shortcuts to get you the best seats on the flight, but you have to promise me that next time you feel like doing this you will pick up a phone and call my direct line."

"Thank you Pen.

…………

The flight out was good. Garcia had kept her promise and they had good seats. Reid had packed up a selection of books he hoped he could use as trade.

They had rooms booked in central London and took a cab from the airport to the hotel. Reid had insisted on separate rooms. They managed to get one with an adjoining door, which they both decided to keep unlocked, but Spencer was going to take the opportunity to have some proper space. It was early afternoon and not time today to go to the collector so they decided to take a walk around the park nearby. Everything was new and different. The big London busses, the accents, the smells. The park was beautiful and Jason was loving his time walking around relaxed and not having to watch Spencer one hundred percent of the time.

They watched the pigeons, and Jason told Reid about racing pigeons and breeding and Spencer listened and smiled. There was a children's entertainer of some kind in the middle of the park. He had balloons he was handing out to children, and was selling something. Gideon was looking across to the lake but Reid's eyes were fixed on the crowd of children.

There was something wrong. He could feel it. Somewhere deep inside him something was stirring. Something exciting, yet terrifying. A child skipped by him with something in his hand. Then another. A mother with a child in a push chair stopped to light her cigarette. Spencer's eyes flicked from the flame on the match to the child in the buggy. He was holding something in his grubby hands and putting part of it in his mouth to suck, but his small hands slipped and the thing dropped to the ground.

Spencer stood looking at the toy now on the floor and then to the crowd of children and the balloons and back to the toy. They buggy was moving off now and the toy was still laying in the grass. He bent down to pick it up. His hands were shaking so much he could hardly hold it. He carefully lifted it to his face closed his eyes and inhaled. His head swam with a million memories of love and lust and pain.

Jason turned from looking at the pond back to Reid in time to see him sway and put his hands out in front of him. Gideon had seen this odd movement too many times now and watched helplessly as Spencer fell back in a convulsion. He didn't notice small hand made doll fall nor did he notice the crowd dissipate and the balloons float up towards the clouds. He definitely didn't hear the screaming in Reid's head.

……………

_Floyd Flanders once said: Watch out here I come._

**A/N OK that's the setting up chapter, now for the real fun to start :c)**


	2. Chapter 2 Balloons

Balloons

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Spencer was sick under a tree in the park and seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. They sat on a bench while Spencer pulled his mind back so they would be able to go back to the hotel. It was a short walk but the tight knot which had formed in Spencer's stomach was not going to let him stand for too long without being sick again.

This wasn't normal. Yes Reid was often sick after something like this but not to the point that he couldn't walk. He sat on the bench leaning forwards rocking. Gideon was worried. This was more than just a seizure. Something had happened.

"Spencer, what happened?" He asked gently. He just got a whimper back. They sat for an hour before Spencer could stand and start the slow process of walking back to the hotel. He was limping badly. Jason hadn't seen him walking this badly in months.

They made it to their separate rooms. "Just let me sleep Jason." A whisper of a voice. "Leave the adjoining door open please."

Something had scared him, he was sure of it. He had seen Reid's brain lock up like that before just out of pure terror, but he hadn't seen anything in the park which would have caused this. Maybe it was just the pain in his foot? He left the door open but went to have a shower for before dinner. It didn't look like Reid would be going down for food so he would order something to eat in, and listen to music and read.

Gideon picked up the phone and made an order and asked if there was a chess board he could use. There would be time for him to shower and get changed before the food arrived. A quick check on Reid who was laying on his side sleeping already. He noticed that his hands were twitching at his sides. Hopefully this was all just his brain adjusting to the different time zones. Jason would have to watch when he gave Spencer his medications, and actually realised that he may have missed a dose. It was hard to tell with the time difference and the fact Reid should take it at night time. They seemed to stop the nightmares.

Jason enjoyed his shower. He always liked to sing in the shower – the acoustics were marvellous. He got out after about twenty minutes still singing and turned off the power shower, dried himself down and started to dress. The he heard it. A scream. He knew that scream anywhere. As he ran to the adjoining door he began to hear smashing of things being thrown. The door was shut. Who shut the door? More to the point who locked it?

"Reid open the door!" he shouted through the wood, but all he could hear now was strange whimpering sounds. He shouldered the door a few times before it finally opened. The room was in darkness. "Reid what the hell happened?" All he got back was a choking sound of someone gasping for air.

Gideon ran for a light switch, but the lights seemed not to be working. He couldn't work out where Reid was and ran around the bed to see him laying on his back on the floor with a look of terrified panic on his face. His hands clawing at something at his throat. He knelt down next to Spencer – there was a plastic tie wound tightly around his neck so tight it was cutting into his skin.

"Stay calm Spencer. I need to cut it off." He looked into the wild eyes of Spencer then got up and ran back to his room for his pocket knife in his jacket pocket. When he got back Reid's eyes were rolling back into his head and his hands had stopped trying to remove it. He carefully and quickly slid the knife under the plastic tie. It popped off and Spencer took a huge gulping breath. Followed by a scream. Gideon sat with Spencer trying to calm him down. What the hell had happened here? He reached over and picked up the hotel phone

"Security please." He gave a room number. He helped Reid off the floor and onto the bed. "What happened? Who did this to you? Did you see who it was?"

Security opened the door and flicked the switch, when no lights came on they shone flashlights into the dark room. Reid threw his arm over his face as the light revealed what was in the room. The ceiling was covered in balloons of all different colours. The walls were covered in what looked to be blood in patterns and swirls. How the hell had all this been done in twenty minutes?

Gideon looked down at Reid. What the hell had happened? Something from the park. He thought back and visualised the scene and saw the balloons in the sky as Reid seized. Something to do with the balloons in the park. It made no sense.

……………

Down a deep dark tunnel.

Down a hole in the ground.

Down where the rats won't go.

Sitting in the dirt.

Mixing potions.

Grinding powders.

Calling his boys to him.

He had a headache. He sat and looked at his pretty boys and wiped the blood from his nose and put his hand out for the money.

"We are going to be having a guest soon. Get the room ready."

"Who's it gonna be?"

"Did I tell you to open your filthy mouth?"

A shake of the head.

"Then just do as you are told, and be grateful I didn't just stomp your face in."

………………….

The police came to talk to Reid. They sat in Gideon's room. Paramedics had put a dressing on Reid's neck where the plastic garrotte had cut into him, and something to take the swelling down. They told Reid that the door was unlocked. Had he let anyone in the room? Why was the adjoining room door locked when his friend had left it open? Did he see who did this to him? Do the balloons mean anything to him?

Reid spent the time just staring into space nodding occasionally and shrugging.

It was suggested that Reid stay the night with Jason while they sorted out things next door and was he alright, he doesn't seem quite right.

Gideon was aware that he didn't seem quite right and he still didn't know what had happened. Reid didn't seem able to tell them anything. Jason gave him his night time meds and settled him on the bed.

Jason stayed awake. He spent the night talking to the police and watching his boy sleeping. The marks on his neck were coming up in big bruises. They were meant to be going to see the collector tomorrow, now Jason very much doubted that would happen. Not if something was going on. He just didn't know what it was, and until Spencer could explain then they would take things very slowly and not leave each others sides.

……………….

"JASON!" Reid sat up in bed his hands at his throat.

Gideon was there at his side an arm around his shoulders. "Its ok, Spencer."

"What's going on?" Spencer looked really confused.

"I need you to tell me that. Can you remember what happened?"

"What happened? When?" His hands were twisting in his lap.

"Last night, who attacked you? The balloons?"

Reid stood up and limped – even worse than the day before to a mirror and stared at the cuts and bruises on his neck. "I thought it was a dream." His voice was almost a whisper.

Gideon joined Reid at the mirror. "Do you remember who did this?"

"There were too many of them. I couldn't fight them off. They were waiting for me." He was shaking.

"What did they look like? How many of them?"

Spencer shook his head. "Shadows – they looked like shadows, and the balloons. Everywhere balloons. Then someone put something around my neck and I couldn't breath."

"Anything else? A smell? Something someone said?"

"Smells of dirt, but no sounds, it was silent. Jason I thought it was a dream."

…………………

He crawled up the stairs from his dark hole with his boys and walked with the shadows down a tunnel. A small gesture and they disappeared into the darkness like rats. He handed out small bags to each of his boys.

"Count the money and don't stick my powders up your own noses because I will know if you have." He stood back and watched as his boys walked down the tunnel towards some light at the end.

The man with the hair checked out the things in his pockets.

"I'm coming to get you."

And he walked down the tunnel away from the light with a cheroot in his mouth and smile on his face.

………………………


	3. Chapter 3 Jumper

Jumper

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine

Gideon made a call to the book collector to hold off the appointment until the afternoon. Reid still wanted to go. He seemed desperate to go. He dragged his purple scarf out of his bag and wrapped it around his neck to try to disguise the bruises.

The police had spent the morning trying to talk to him again, but Reid really didn't remember much at all. He still seemed confused about what he had dreamed and imagined and what really happened. They asked to talk to Jason alone.

"Are you completely sure he didn't do this to himself?"

"What do you mean? Obviously he didn't." Gideon would probably have been asking the same questions though. Reid was behaving in an odd manner, one that Gideon was more then a little bit worried about, and now this strange thing last night.

"We cannot find any forced entry. No fingerprints except Dr Reid's"

"I expect the unsub had gloves on. How could he have produced those balloons? He didn't have them when we arrived at the hotel."

"Just making sure sir, your friend seems very confused. He is unwell?"

"He has been unwell. He is recovering from a trauma. Things have been difficult for him, but he wouldn't have been able to do this – there was no time."

…………..

A small door way at the side was just enough space to pull himself into as something rushed by like a bullet. The warm smell of air being pushed down the tunnel - the smell of metal on metal – the smell of sparks in the dark – the smell of death. When the noise stopped he came back out of the shadows and whistled gently down into the darkness. Shadows pulled out of the brickwork to scuttle around him. He looked at his companions and they kept their eyes down at the ground. Time to choose one of them. He put his hand out and touched one of them on the head.

"You – you know what to do." The shadow seemed to shrink away. "I will be watching. I will tell you when."

The shadow got up and became a teenaged boy – he walked quickly along the tunnel in the direction the train had come from.

The man with the cheroot looked down at another lad. "Go and get me something nice." The boy stood and walked back down the track to where the light eventually would be. "The rest of you – I will need. Stay with me."

…………

The events of the night before seemed to be over shadowed by Reid's desperate need to get his hands on the book.

"You are sure you called the collector? You are sure they will trade?" He was pacing a weird painful looking walk back and forth across the room.

"I am sure, but your ankle Reid, are you going to be alright. It looks like it's painful." A slightly puzzled face watching the foot in its blue sock then at the twisting hands.

"It's great. Just a bit stiff. Can we go then?" Looking at his watch. "I really need that book." He turned to look at Jason who was sitting on the bed watching him.

"The police will want to talk to you again Spencer. Someone tried to kill you last night. Someone who doesn't seem to be on any security cameras."

Spencer's hand went to his neck and he frowned. "Its ok really, I probably did it to myself in a dream. Can we go? Do you need to check with him?"

Gideon was still watching Reid closely. What the hell was going on with him? "You know full well you didn't do that to yourself. Talk to me about it Spencer. I am worried about this. Someone tried to kill you and you don't seem bothered."

"I am bothered. Now can we get the book?" Reid was putting on his jacket and heading for the door. Gideon didn't move.

"I will call a cab. Wait Reid. We will be too early and I need you to relax a bit before we leave." His hand went to the phone.

Spencer turned with an irritated look on his face. "I want to get the subway and I am relaxed. My foot is hurting slightly, but apart from that everything is rosy so can we go."

"Then tell me what happened in the park. What did you see?" Gideon stood and picked up the parcel of books they intended to use for trade at the collectors shop.

"I don't want to talk about it right now. I need to sort out the book first. Then we can cosy down and talk about the park if that will make you happy. We came all this way Jason. I need to get that book and I need to get it now." He limped over to Gideon and snatched the parcel from him and turned back to the door.

They walked in silence to the Underground station. Reid's limp seemed to be getting worse the further they walked and Gideon was far from happy about this funny attitude he was displaying. Was this part of the psychosis showing through again or something totally different? What ever happened last night was not in Reid's mind. Someone had gotten into his room and attacked him and left an odd message behind. The police had no record of similar attacks, and yes, something had happened in the park. Something which terrified Reid so much he had a seizure, or again was that part of his psychosis and the time difference and jet lag?

They got tickets at the machine and negotiated the escalator which looked like they were going into the deepest depths of the earth. They stood and looked at a map and found the station they needed to go to and started the long walk along curved tunnels to the platform they needed to find. Reid was hanging on the hand rail and Gideon noted the pained expression on Spencer's face.

"Reid." A hand rested on his shoulder. "We should go back. Why are you insisting you can manage when you are in pain?"

Spencer pushed Jason's hand off his shoulder. "Stop it – just stop fussing. We need to keep walking. We need to get the book." The tears of pain were creeping around behind his eyes and he was sure Jason could see them there ready to explode down his face if he didn't keep walking. He moved off again holding the rail to stop himself falling.

The platform was busy. Commuters going to the office, tourists, mothers with children, young couples holding hands, beggars and everyone else in between. The ends of the platform were less crowed and so Spencer indicated he was going to get out of the crowd and move along. Jason nodding agreement and followed him to the far left hand end of the platform. A digital sign suspended from the ceiling told them they had three minutes to wait for the train they needed.

Spencer's whole body was tingling. The excitement was so great his hands were shaking. He needed to get to that book. He needed it now. Would it be quicker to walk? No – stupid idea, he could hardly walk as it was. Two minutes before the train arrived. He was grinding his teeth and leaning forwards to see better down the tunnel.

"Reid!" and Jason was pulling him back again. "Keep back from the edge."

One minute.

And it happened. A dark clothed male of about sixteen walked off the platform and over the edge onto the rails below. It was immediate. He probably didn't feel much. He sort of exploded as he bent down and touched the live rail. People were screaming and running from the platform, emergency bells were ringing and sirens going off. The smell was awful. Gideon turned to see if he could help. He took some steps forwards and attempted to comfort a screaming teenaged girl.

…………..

And it happened. A hand wrapped itself around Reid's mouth and hands grabbed his legs and arms. They pulled him off the platform to inside the tunnel before he knew what was happening. The books for trade dropped on the edge of the platform, and then snatched up by white hands from the shadows.

…………..

He sensed something was wrong before he felt it. There was a smell. A smell he knew. Then something covered his mouth. Something familiar. Something dreadful. He tried to shout out, he tried to kick and bite and punch. He tried to remember all those nights in the gym being thrown to the floor by Derek, but there were hands all over him and holding him then cuffing his hands behind his back and tying something around his mouth. His throat tightened in fear as a bag was pulled down over his face and tied at his neck.

They carried him through the tunnels and down the unused sidings into the dark depths of the maze where the rats where big and bloated and had blind eyes. At the edge of a hole in the ground they stopped and looked up the man in charge who gave a slight nod. The shadowy hands of his companions dropped Spencer to the ground and then kicked him over the edge into the darkness.

…………

Gideon was just about to turn back to Spencer when something else caught his attention. Floating along the roof of the tunnel.

A red balloon.

By the time he turned back Reid was long gone.

……………………


	4. Chapter 4 Boys

Boys

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

He couldn't breath, he was going to die.

He lay face down in slime and mud and filth and dead creatures which had fallen down there and been trapped. The slime and mud had adhered to the thing over his face stopping the small amount of air he had been getting. He moved his head to the side to try to get something other than this wet filth into his lungs.

How long had he been here before he felt hands untying the thing around his neck - minutes, hours, days? He had no idea; all he knew was in the unenviable position of being abducted yet again. There wasn't a bright light to blind him when the bag was removed from his head just almost pitch blackness. He blinked and shook his hair out of his eyes and saw things moving around in the shadows. He was still gagged and cuffed but managed to get to his knees. His head swam and his eyes watered with anger that this was happening again.

…………….

He looked down the hole in the ground and saw his victim. He will pay for what he did. He would leave him for a while to think about the position he was now in. He didn't want to look too closely at him because he knew it would hurt him too much. He knew he would have to go to him. His heart thumped at the thought and the excitement twisted in his stomach. What was it this one freak had that was such a hold over him? He didn't understand it. Everything had been good for a few weeks; his anger had been so profound that he felt nothing but the need for vengeance. Now the anger had gone but the need for revenge was still there.

Everything was his fault. The crippling pain he had been in for months was his fault. The loss of his family was his fault. The death of his daughter was his fault. Everything. This situation was all brought on by what he had done. Surely he was not surprised by it. Now he would let him wallow in his pain and fear and have his pleasures with his boys.

A boy walked over knelt on the floor next to the man smoking the cheroot. A hand was carelessly run through the boy's hair.

"Did you get the guest room ready like I asked?"

"Yes." A small nervous voice.

"Shall we go try it out?" Fingers wrapped around the boy's hair and he was pulled to his feet.

……………….

Gideon stood in a crowd alone. He looked back to where Reid had been standing a few seconds ago then back to the crowd. Had he just walked off? The noise on the platform was incredible. Maybe it had freaked him out and he had tried to get out? He wouldn't get far on that bad ankle.

What was he thinking? Reid hadn't gone anywhere, he hadn't passed him, he would have seen him. He looked back up at the balloon and down to the mess on the rails and then in the direction of the tunnel. Station security were clearing the platform off as quickly as they could. Someone touch Gideon's arm as he stood looking at the tunnel entrance again.

"Sir we need you to ask you to leave." A quick voice. Hurry hurry get them off the platform.

"My friend is missing. He was standing here. I think he has wondered off down the tunnel." Gideon pulled the man's had off him.

"Not possible sir, I expect your friend has just left in the crowd. I really need to ask you leave."

Jason stood looking down at the rails and then looked up at the security guard. "Not possible, why?"

The guard indicated the body on the line. "That is why sir. If your friend wandered off down there, then he would have triggered the alarms and walking down there in the dark – well sir – we would know by now. Believe me."

"Has the power not been turned off?" Jason looked back up at the balloon.

"Sir Yes it has, but not the whole line, just this section. I promise you we would know if your friend walked down the tunnel."

"I see. Can I look at your security tapes? I will see him leave the platform if he has."

"I am very sir, I understand your concern, but this sort of happening is shocking, and people do the unexpected when in shock. Please if you are worried make a report at the security office. That is the best I can do. I need you to leave the platform."

Gideon reluctantly started to walk away. "One more thing: You don't seem too upset by this. You have seen this sort of thing before?"

"Sadly yes, it is becoming the 'in' thing to do recently. We have a huge number of teenage homeless killing themselves in this manner."

Gideon needed more answers. "How many is a huge number? How often is this happening?"

"At least one a week sir. All teenage boys. Very sad. Now please leave and give your name and number and that of your friend to security if you are still worried, but I am sure he left in the first wave of panic.

…………….

Something was touching him. Moving cold hands up the back of his jacket and under his shirt. He couldn't see what it was and as he tried to spin around on his knees to see what it was something grabbed his hair and pulled him forwards onto his face in the muck again.

Climbing on his back – pulling at this clothing – cutting and slicing at his jacket – ripping and tearing at his shirt. He still couldn't quite see who it was – small people, thin, dark – like shadows, running hands over his bare back and fingers, small damp fingers tracing letters burned into his back.

Whispers – in his ear – fetid dirty breath – again a familiar smell. Decomposition – death – decay – breathing into his ear. 'filth' it whispered from a dirty mouth.

A hand moved down his arms and over the scars spelling out the old original cuts. His shoulders hurt from having his hands held back, and now something was straddling him and licking the back of his neck. He wanted to scream but he was still gagged. Where was Gideon? Why hadn't he seen this happen? If this was Floyd where was he? Why is he doing this? What was this thing – and why was it licking his ear?! – and doing that with its hand! He started to try to roll over onto his back, then feeling the hands decided that on his front was probably best. His breaths coming short and sharp, his heart thumping too hard and a little niggling voice in the back of his head.

……………..

A room – the guest quarters. The two stood and looked.

He didn't really want it to be the boy here. He wanted Reid. He needed Spence. The need made his head hurt and his nose bleed.

"Leave me alone." And he pushed the boy back out of the room. It was a den of vice and debauchery. He had created it for his pleasure. He had made it to bring his loves back to and lay and take his beloved drugs and take his beloved Spence. Spence who had caused him so much pain. Spence who had virtually crippled him. The pain still in his back was a constant reminder of what the Clan had done.

Why had the clan done this? Because Spence insisted on meeting the 'family' because Spence had a gay walk and stood out like a sore thumb in a diner full of morons – because Spence couldn't control those damned voices while he went and got him a change of clothing – because Spence refused to wash – because His Spence came home smelling of Agent Aaron Hotchner. This was all because Spence was a whore. Spence murdered his only child – his daughter – Spencer shot her between he eyes because he is filth. He got his back sliced because Spence made a fool of himself in the diner.

Agent Aaron Hotchner – that son of a bitch – he will pay too. He will pay for trying to take Spence from him. Him and his hair that smells of apples – he who didn't bother to resist him when he had him. That Aaron Hotchner was as much a tart as his Spence. His Spence – only his. Well his and his boys – his boys can have him for a while. Let the scum feel what its like to be screwed over by someone you love.

He lay down on the cushions on the floor and pulled a small bag over to him…he opened the bag and took out a small pinch of grey powder and lay it on his thumb nail and inhaled. Everything went. The pain, the anger, the grieving for his lost love – it floated away and stuck to the ceiling – so he lay and recited Proust to it and wished his Spence was here with him.

………………..


	5. Chapter 5 Ladder

Ladder

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine

**AN: To my readers and to my lovely reviewers!!! I love you all!!! **

Gideon went to the security room to see if he could discover the whereabouts of Spencer. He tired to explain that Reid had NOT just walked away with the crowd. Something had happened to him. He had been on the platform and then he was gone. Will they please look back on their tapes to see what happened?

No they wouldn't. They had enough going on. Station closed blah blah – come back if your friend doesn't turn up at the hotel. Call the police. 'bloody foreigners'

He caused a scene. He made a big fuss. He offered to look at the tape himself. They threw him out. He had the tape in his pocket.

…………

He awoke with a stinker of a headache and needing something strong to drink. He threw the book to one side and crawled to a bottle on the floor. Yes a drink would be just right now. He sat up and removed the lid and took a long drink then lit up something to smoke. Floyd leaned on the wall and looked around. This was his special place. It was his new cellar. His haven. Their haven. He made this to share, as he had the bookstore. The bookstore Agent Aaron Hotchner took from him. The place he made for himself and Spence. Not for Gideon.

Floyd slowly pulled himself to his feet. His muscles hurt, his back hurt, his brain hurt, his heart hurt, and he had another damned nose bleed.

He leaned on the wall his head spinning happily thinking. He needed him so much it hurt, but he cant forgive him, but it was an accident, but he still killed his Rosie, but he would have been killed and he would have lost him. Then again he can always use the boys, but they are not the same. He can make a new girl, like he did before, but princess wasn't Rosie, but then nor is Spence, but his Spence is broken. He needed to fix him. He will fix him.

He left the room with his eyes unfocused and not able to walk a straight line. Things in the shadows were watching him. Flanders walked his drugged and drunken walk to the edge of the hole in the ground, and looked down.

…………

He lay in the filth with the weight of someone on top of him. He had the feeling it was more than one person there. Just laying across him – touching his skin – running fingers over the mark on his back. Still gagged and still hand behind his back. Reid thought this was going to be it. He would die down this hole somewhere under London and Gideon didn't even miss him and he never got his book. In the back of his mind where the voices where beginning to gather he could hear the creaking of someone climbing down a ladder. He felt whatever it was on his back being removed, and his hands, which unknown to him were turning blue were released from the cuffs. The gag was cut off, and someone rolled him over onto his back. He tried to resist, but the sudden movement his shoulders had been given sent screaming pain through his upper body. He let out a moan as he was forced onto his back.

Flanders looked down into the eyes and felt everything – all the pain and hurt – all the hate – it just disappeared into those eyes looking back at him.

Through the pain – and through the fear – and through voices in his head, Reid's hand came back and slapped Flanders across the face. If Floyd hadn't been drunk and drugged he would probably had hit him back, but it unbalanced him and he slid sideways into the mud and filth. For a second Reid wasn't sure what had happened. He assumed he was going to get a slap back at the very least, but with Floyd laying on his side – giggling? – he decided to move quickly and get out of this hole now!

Spencer crawled to the ladder attached to the wall and with the aching in this shoulder and arms and with slightly numb hands and a foot which felt like he had broken it again he started to climb up the ladder.

He stood on the first rung. It creaked and whined and he felt the rust on his hands digging in.

Second rung – his shoulders protested and his bad foot didn't want to do this. He pushed on.

Flanders lay on the floor still laughing and watching his Spence in his mad attempt to escape. "Spence! You came all this way to see me – don't run away!" and more laughing.

Third rung – he heard the mocking laughter from Floyd and his heart was breaking and his shoulders started to resist the effort this was taking.

"Spence! Please come back! This is killing me!" Snorts of laughter. He found a hip flask and decided to top up this feeling taking long chugs from the small silver flask.

Forth rung – His hands were sweating and sliding on the rusty rungs: cutting into the palms of his hands and making his eyes water.

"Babes! Come back!" Insane giggling. "I don't want to have to chase you again."

Fifth rung – "Leave me alone!" Feet slipping and hands sliding with the blood and sweat. Still a long way from the top where small faces where looking down at him, and voices started to jabber away in the back of his mind.

Floyd started to crawl to the foot of the ladder. "I'm coming to get you!" And more laughing.

Sixth rung – hands barely holding on, and feet sliding off into nothingness.

"I got you Spence!" Grabbing for Reid's ankles and pulling.

"Let go of me!"

He never made it to the seventh rung. He fell onto Flanders where they lay in a heap. Floyd laughing and Spencer just wondering what the hell was going on.

……………

Gideon took the tape back to the hotel and stuck it in the machine. It was a long tape but not hard to find the bit where the guy killed himself. Gideon was looking at the grainy form or Spencer standing with this back to the lines. Then people running and getting in the way, and when it cleared Spencer was gone. He watched it again; it was at a funny angle. Maybe he had just walked away, it was hard to tell. It was inconclusive. Garcia might have better luck with it. Jason decided to wait until the morning. If Spencer was still not back at the hotel he would call the police here, and Hotch. After what happened the night before there was every possibility that something had happened to Reid on that platform. He just couldn't see it. He sat and thought about it, and then picked up the phone and called the detective he had talked to earlier about the break in. He quickly explained what had happened at the station omitting the fact he had pinched the security tapes.

He explained how Reid had seen something in the park, and then all the balloons in his room, and the single balloon at the station.

Gideon was told that Reid had probably wondered off. There were a lot of balloons around. Lots of children. Lots of people get lost on the underground. He will turn up. Don't worry. Yes they realised he had been unwell. No they didn't know he needed medication. Should he be on holiday over here if he is that unstable? Yes they will keep ears and eyes open.

…………..

"This is not funny!" Reid tried to get up again, but the floor was slimy and he began to slip and fell back onto Floyd – who wrapped his arms around Spencer's neck and pulled him close. "Get of me!" A high pitched voice and one that made Floyd melt – and need to hold him tighter. He could vaguely feel Spencer struggling against him – and he could sort of feel Spencer trying to pull his arms off, but it made him squeeze harder. Somewhere in the back of his drugged and drunken mind he could hear choking but he didn't connect it to the flailing struggling Spencer. As the struggling stopped he looked up and saw that face. The face he had hated. The face he had wanted to rip from the head it was attached to but something seemed to be wrong.

Floyd pushed a limp unmoving Spencer off him. Reid rolled onto his side and lay staring up at nothing. "Spence?" Floyd suddenly began to feel sober. "Spence what's wrong?"

……………….


	6. Chapter 6 Error404

Error404

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

He rolled Reid over onto his back.

"Spence?"

Nothing.

Floyd crouched down and looked closely at Spencer. His mind went blank. What should he do? He bent over Spencer and looked at his eyes. A splash of red hit him on the cheek. He pulled out his hip flask and with trembling uncoordinated fingers he opened it and tipped it over Spencer's slightly open mouth.

"Drink up Spence."

Nothing.

He closed the flask and shoved it back in his pocket then put his hands on Spencer's shoulders. "Spence?" He started to shake him. "Ah shit I broke him again." He grabbed Reid and threw him over his shoulder and made his way slowly up the ladder. It creaked and moaned under the double weight, but under the fuzzy cloud over his damaged brain he knew he had to get Spencer out and breathing as quickly as he could. When he got to the lip of the hole he threw Spencer off his back and onto the tunnel floor.

As Reid hit the floor on his back he took a deep breath and as his eyes rolled back and his hands flailed in front of him, Floyd stood back to watch. Like Gideon he had seen this happen many times before and it didn't freak him out anymore. He just watched until Reid had stopped fitting then picked him up to take him to their room.

Eyes in the shadows watching.

…………..

Jason didn't sleep and Reid didn't come back. If had left the station he could be anywhere. Anything could have happened. He picked up the phone again in the morning and called the detective he had spoken to previously.

"No he didn't come home – yes he is without medication – psychosis – vulnerable, yes he is, I need to find him. I don't believe he left the station – missing security tapes? – I see – Well I didn't expect someone to do that – yes I understand London is a big place, but if he hasn't taken his meds he is going to be serious trouble – Voices – self harming – confused. Well yes I realise that too, I wasn't planning on losing him at the station. Doctors letters? I will come down to the station." And he replaced the receiver. "Damnit Reid where are you?"

Next Gideon picked up the phone to contact the book collector, maybe Reid had been there. There was no answer. He went over to the computer sitting on the desk and had a look for the shop opening times on the internet. The URL seemed to have gone. Error 404 unknown address. He browsed for the name of the book and found it, but there didn't seem to be any for sale. All private collectors. One known copy was missing. House break in a few weeks ago. Someone took the books, coins, and medals collections then set fire to the house if the book was still in existence they might never know. It may have been destroyed in the fire.

His next call was to Aaron.

Gideon left a message with reception if Dr Reid should come back can they call him immediately. He gave them his cell number then left for the short walk to the station. He was taken straight in to the detective's office and asked to sit down.

"So your friend has gone missing? He hasn't returned yet?"

"I know something has happened, I don't understand why you are not out there looking for him." He was staying calm. No point in upsetting the natives.

"You said he sick? Psychopath? Do you have doctors' letters permitting him to travel?" The detective was watching Jason closely.

"He has a psychosis. He is not a psychopath. He's not dangerous to anyone but himself. All the time he is taking his medication he is able to cope, but he has missed a dose now, and with the time zone differences – I am very worried about him. He hears voices, he gets confused. I need to find him, and there is this."

And Gideon explained about the book and what now seemed to be a non existent book collector. He gave the detective the number and address he had been using to contact the collector and it was passed onto someone to check it out.

A pretty female police officer returned about ten minutes later. "Sir this address doesn't exist. The phone number was cancelled yesterday. Registered to a Mr Rend – a gentleman who has recently gone into a nursing home.

……………..

He lay Reid down on the deep cushions then went back and closed the door, slapping away little white fingers "Not now." He bolted the door, and then returned to Spencer. He had rolled over onto his front and was moaning and whimpering trying to crawl away. Floyd stood and watched for a short while then put a foot between Reid's shoulder blades and pushed down. He was looking at the brand on his back.

"Where are you going?"

…………..

_Get out of here now._

_You can't stay here._

_He will kill you._

_Don't give in to him._

_But he loves you!_

_He needs you._

_He cares for you._

_He called you and you came running._

"Get out of my head" Whispering.

"I'm not in your head Spence." He removed his foot and kicked him over onto his back. "Not yet anyway."

_You need him._

_You are lusting after him._

_He is going to hurt you._

_Are you ready?_

_Can you see that look in his eyes?_

"Floyd."

"Shsh – don't talk. You are not well." He knelt down next to Spencer. "I am sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you babes. Thank you for coming all this way to see me though." And he brushed hair off Reid's face.

"I came all this way to buy a book. Not to see you."

Floyd smiled at him and dropped something on Reid's chest. "Justinus and Cornelius Nepos – Spence you came to see me."

He picked up the book and turned it over in his hands. It didn't fill him with the excitement he thought it would. It meant nothing. He couldn't think why he had made such a fuss about getting it now. "How?"

"How anything Spence? Too many questions. I am sorry. I am sorry it came to this." His hands came down to grab Reid's hair.

"You are drunk. Get off me Floyd." He slapped his hand out of the way and scrabbled back on the cushions.

"No Spence I am sad, I am angry, I am hurting, but I am sober. Get up off the floor."

Reid struggled to his feet. His bad foot was in agony but he still managed to stand and look defiantly at Floyd. "I am leaving now. You won't stop me. They will be looking for me. You can't keep me here."

"Statistics on how many psychotics walk onto the lines on London's Underground please. How many jump in front of trains?"

The figures automatically shot into Reid's head and his eyes opened wide. "It it it……Around 200 people commit suicide by train every year, with another 50 killing themselves on the London underground. In the UK, suicide has taken over from road accidents as the number one cause of death for young adult males in the age range 18-24. " Spencer sighed deeply. "It doesn't specify if they had mental health issues."

"Well yes, one more won't notice Spence. You will be splattered by the ten thirty from The Elephant and Castle if you don't do what I tell you to do. Like now?"

_Told you he will kill you._

_You hurt him._

_You denied him._

_All yours._

_You killed a child._

_Murdered an innocent._

_He won't let you forget that._

_I won't let you forget that._

Reid was pushed against the wall. Something tight was wrapped around his neck. He worn one of these before, but last time it was in fun. This was not fun.

"Floyd – You know this isn't really what you want. Let me go – let us sit and talk this over."

"Nothing to talk about Spence. You murdered Rosie." Spitting anger.

"I I I I didn't mean to! It was an accident. Undo this and we can talk it through. I will explain." Desperate to try to reason with a mad man when he himself could feel things gradually slipping away. He knew there was no reasoning with him now.

Flanders took Reid's hands and manacled them with bent arms at shoulder level. Then patted his cheek and went to get something out of a drawer in a small cupboard. He brought back a syringe with something already loaded.

"This might sting." He actually seemed to look concerned, but it must have been a trick of the light.

"Floyd, please don't do this." Huge eyes and memories of being drugged so many times.

"Its something I made especially for you Spence. To keep the voices away. I have tested it. Reached a non fatal level. I think it will work. I will see about getting some Geodon for you." He stuck the needle into Spencer's upper arm and pressed the unknown substance into his muscle. "Right, I will be outside. I am going to let one of the boys have some fun with you. Just call if you need me."

He left his Spence tied to the wall.

Reid heard whispers and he heard the door slam shut, and a scuttling noise coming towards him.

He was not going to beg. He knew it wouldn't work. Once Floyd had his mind set he couldn't change is. No point in begging or threatening. So he stood and watched one of Floyd's boys walking towards him grinning.

Flanders slammed the door and stood with his back against it. He was taking deep breaths and counting in his head as he pulled out his hip flask and took a long deep drink, then lit a cheroot. He closed his eyes and thought of happy times – there weren't many – so it didn't take long.

He had reached fifty when the first scream shot through the door.

……………………


	7. Chapter 7 Bites

Bites

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Gideon had ordered food in his room again, and sat looking at nothing in his room. Reid's room was still closed off and being examined. There was a gentle tap on the door "Room service." A voice on the other side of the door. He got up with a sigh and walked to the door. He put the chain on to check it was actually room service and saw the smiling face of a man in uniform on the other side. Gideon undid the chain on his side and as he did he realised something was wrong.

Jason jumped back from the door and made a dash for his gun. Gun? Gun no gun, this was England no gun. He turned back around again. The man from room service was laying on the floor and Flanders stood there with a huddle of boys and some balloons.

"Please don't tell me you weren't expecting me." Flanders had the arrogant voice, but something in his posture was missing. He was in pain.

"What have you done with Reid?" He watched the boys entering the room and pull the phone wire out of the socket.

"Nothing: what do you want me to do with him?" He was smirking. "I thought Agent Aaron Hotchner would be the one to ask. I trust you Jason. I have since back in the cabin. But that doesn't mean I like you. I don't like you living in my house pretending it is yours. I don't like you caring for Spence. He's not yours Jason."

"He was happy, he was recovering." He watched them going through his jacket pockets, and was gradually backing away towards the door.

"He wasn't. You are fooling yourself. Why are you here Jason? Why are you in England? Because I called him, that's why. That is not recovered that is drugged, which reminds me, I need his Geodon.

"Can you take me to him? I would like to know he is alight." Still slowly backing away.

"Stop. I am not stupid Jason. Give me his meds. If you try to get away I will have to hurt you, and you are about the only I don't want to have to do that to and obviously he is fine or I wouldn't be asking for his meds. Now please. He needs them."

"Why do you not feel the urge to hurt me Floyd? Why am I different? The Geodon are in my bag – front zip. The key is in my jacket pocket." Indicating where they were. The last thing he wanted was Reid falling apart in the hand of Flanders.

"I guess it is because I think you really care for no reason other than you like Spence. Thank you for this Jason." Holding up the meds. "I will be in contact with someone at some point. I'm off now. The boys will keep you amused for a while." He picked up Gideon's phone and slipped it in his pocket. "Take care Jason."

…………..

Reid was laying on his back in the middle of the room. He had on a pair of black sweat pants and nothing else. Three boys were crouching next to him watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. One arm was across his eyes and one hand was running fingers over all the bruising and cuts over his neck. The cuts from the night before had reopened, and fresh ones had joined them. He was muttering and whispering.

_He's going to kill Jason._

"No he won't do that"

_Where has he gone in such a hurry then?_

"To get something to shut you up."

_You need me._

"I don't need you."

_But you would miss me._

"Get out of my head."

_I was just getting comfy._

Spencer had no idea what it was Floyd had given him, but it wasn't working. He could feel all his muscles twitching and it he was finding it impossible to stop drooling. Under his arm he could feel his eyes darting side to side, the nystigmas. He knew he should open his eyes and try to focus on something, but right now opening his eyes wasn't in the plan of survival. He knew those creepy kids where there watching, and sometimes touching him. Cold clammy fingers suddenly running over his stomach or leg. If he opened his eyes he would have to admit this was real. That this wasn't in his mind because even his mind wouldn't have thought of something this – odd.

He felt a rush of warm air as the door was opened and heard the pattering of feet as the boys got up and left. Then the sound of the door closing and being locked again.

"Spence, I went and got your meds for you. How's it going?"

He moved his arm to have a peek "Where – where did you get them?" He put a hand out to take them.

"Nu hu Spence. I will look after them. Jason had them locked away for a reason I think."

"You went to Gideon?" Alarm was spreading over his face, but his nystigmas keep him from being able to see properly still, and now he thought he was going to be sick too.

Floyd sat down next to him. "I need you." He moved his hands down to Spencer's face and ran a thumb over his bottom lip. Reid slapped his hand away.

"Well I don't need you. Is Gideon alight?" Flanders caught hold of his wrist and twisted it.

"You – do – need – me." Get up off the floor and let me show you something. He pulled Reid to his feet by his wrist. "You look like crap. Take you meds."

He handed Reid a blue capsule and his hip flask. "I can't take it with alcohol." He started to hand it back.

"Then hold it for me. I want to show you something. Take your meds." Reid put the capsule in his mouth and dry swallowed it. It was comforting to know he had taken it. Maybe those nagging voices would go away. He stood and watched Floyd remove his coat and then unbutton his shirt. He had his back to Reid as his shirt dropped off his shoulders and dropped to the floor.

Reid opened the hip flask and took a big drink. "My god Floyd - That is what your family did? Can I touch it?" He took another drink without thinking. His hands moved towards Floyds back and carefully with one finger he traced over the intricate patterns covering his skin.

"You got away lucky Spence, I took this for you. I was willing to die for you. Then you put a bullet in my daughters head. I am finding it hard to forgive you."

Spencer's hand stopped moving.

"Your daughter? How?"

"Come with me Spence. Let me show you." He turned around and took Reid by the hand. Spencer was finding it hard to walk. Something had happened to his foot. An infection or something. It was agony. "Come on. This place is for us, we may as well enjoy it."

"No Floyd – it doesn't work like that. You can't keep doing this. I am tired of being snatched and hurt. You need to start to get your kicks somewhere else. I don't need you." He felt his hand getting squeezed tighter.

"Yes you need me. You have just forgotten. I need to remind you." Pulling him across the floor slowly.

"Look at my back Floyd, look at my arms; this is how you make me feel. Then you send your boy in here and you expect me to still be lusting over you?" He pulled his hand out of Floyd's grip.

"He hurt you. I heard you screaming. I will make it better for you. Did he bite you?" He was looking into Spencer's eyes which seemed to have stopped twitching so much now.

"You know he bit me! He had sharpened teeth."

"Show me." Floyd was grinning

"No!"

Reid was beginning to get cross with himself. Why did he find this man so impossible to resist. He bit on his bottom lip to try to get his mind to work properly.

Flanders made a grab for Reid's hand again.

"Come on babes!"

"No." But he didn't resist the arms going around his shoulders, or fight being pulled to the floor.

…………..

"Hotchner."

"We have a problem."

"Jason? What's wrong?"

"Flanders has Reid."

………………


	8. Chapter 8 Ecstasy

Ecstasy

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

They didn't actually hurt him. They sat on him. Physically held him down then cuffed him to the bed and gagged him and then turned his room over. They emptied everything they could empty, they broke everything they could break, and they took the security tape pulled the tape out of its housing and made a small fire in the bin.

They touched him and ran fingers over him and they told him what they had done, and planned on doing to Spencer. They left after twenty minutes, not long, but long enough.

……………………….

Reid woke up in a tangle of arms and legs. He had a vague memory of Floyd smoking something very nasty and drinking something green and the room was full of smoke from the many cheroots and incense burners. He carefully untangled himself from Floyd then pulled a throw around his shoulders and had a look for something to drink, he had a funny taste in his mouth and his eyes were still watering. His foot hurt and he was sure he needed it looked at in hospital.

He carefully crawled over to where Floyd had dropped his coat. He wanted that hip flask – he knew he had dropped it here somewhere. As he moved things aside something fell out of a coat pocket. Gideon's phone. He checked Floyd was still sleeping and flipped the phone open. No signal. Of course no signal. They were underground somewhere. He quickly closed it again and crawled to the corner of the room and pushed it under a cushion. Returning to the coat he located the flask and shook it. Empty.

He started to crawl back to Floyd when he saw him move. His stomach tightened in sudden fear.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for something to drink. Funny taste in my mouth. No toothpaste."

"Right – so why are you crawling around the room like a worm?" Floyd rolled over to get a good look at Spence who was frozen to the spot.

"My my f f foot." Crap he was stuttering. Floyd will know something is wrong.

Floyd grabbed something off the floor and wrapped it around him like a sarong. "What are you up to? What have you done?" He started to walk towards Spencer.

_Distract him._

_Quickly say something._

_Stop him._

_He knows._

_He will know you are a liar._

"I I I n n need a drink and – and – I n n need to w w wash." Crap – stuttering still.

Floyd stood in front of Spencer who was kneeling on the floor. "You don't drink. Why the sudden need? What have you done? Show me your hands."

_Told you he would know._

"He doesn't know." Was that out loud? Spencer started to crawl backwards away from Floyd.

"Who doesn't?" Floyd walked to keep up with retreating Reid. "Who doesn't know?"

_Now you are in so much trouble._

"Stop it – be quiet, you are confusing me!" Hissing under his breath.

"What did you say? Are you telling what to do? I don't feel like being told what to do today Spence. Get up off the floor. Stop crawling around like an animal. Hands. Now."

He held his shaking hands out in front of him. "Floyd, I haven't done anything. I am in pain is all. I need to see someone about my foot."

"I will give you something for the pain." He turned and walked back to where they had been sleeping and picked up a small bottle.

_He's drugging you._

_Don't let him._

"Quiet." Reid hissed. "Floyd, it's ok. I really need to see a doctor."

"Drink this, I will get something so you can wash." He threw the bottle to Spencer who just let it drop to the floor in front of him.

"I don't want to drink your potions. You need to take me to hospital." He moved back away from the bottle.

Flanders moved away and towards the door. "Fine have it your way Spence. I will send the boys in to help you wash. Chat later. I will ask them to administer your medication too."

"Floyd! No – I don't need more medication – I am fine."

"Liar – you are talking to your voices – you forget how well I know you Spence. You are not fine. They boys will sort you. I have things to do."

……………….

Hotch was sitting in his office staring at his monitor when there was a knock on the door.

"Yes come on in." He sounded tired.

Garcia walked in holding a file. "Sir I thought you should see this. I was – erm – looking for something and found this." She carefully placed the file on the desk in front of Hotch and stood nervously watching him.

"What is it?" Hotch sat and looked at he file Garcia had given him.

"Please, you need to see it. I will wait." She walked over to a big chair and sat down.

"Can't this wait?" He pushed the file to the side.

"No sir I don't think it can wait. I really think you need to look at it." She started to fiddle with her ear-rings.

Hotch picked up the file and opened it slowly. He didn't really want to know what Garcia had found. He was sure it wasn't going to be something good.

It was mainly newspaper clippings and reports from England but there were also autopsy reports and coroner's photos. He flicked through it with a frown on his face, and then read it all again slower. He studied the photographs. It seemed that most of what had happened was being kept under wraps. The public didn't need to know this.

"It's him isn't it?" She said in a quiet voice. "It's Flanders."

"Garcia, I don't like to think there are secrets being kept between us, but I need you not to tell anyone else about this just yet. I have to work out what to do."

"Can't you call England and tell them who they need to be looking for?" She stood up and started to pace. "They need to find him Sir - to stop this – before it's too late!"

"I think it's already too late Pen."

…………………

They crawled over him touching him with small white shaking hands. They ran bony fingers through his hair and sat on his arms and legs. Reid kicked and fought them off, but there were too many. They forced his jaw open and poured the contents of the bottle down his throat. He managed to spit most of it back out again, but there wasn't anything he could do about the needles they stuck in the flesh between his toes and the feeling of fire running through his blood. He bucked and writhed under the boys who seemed to be morphing into shadows and creatures from nightmares.

_They have you now._

_No one will want you._

_Gideon's not even looking for you._

_You will die here and no one will know._

_They will eat you alive._

_Dirt._

_Scum._

_Druggy filth._

_They will unwrap you._

They wiped cold wet cloths over his sweating body, and cleaned the saliva from his chin and where it had run down his chin and along his neck and then they turned him over and wiped his back taking extra care to play with and look at the marks on his shoulder. They talked in strange distorted whispers only someone from the pits of hell would understand. They put oils on his skin and licked it off with impossibly long tongues and smiled with mouths too big and smiles with too many teeth. Teeth sharpened into vicious point or teeth replaced with metal spikes.

They rolled him back onto his back and put drops of something in his mouth and they held is hands and ran cold fingers over his palms and sucked on his fingers.

Reid floated and everything was wonderful. He could stay here forever. All his nerve endings tingled and his heart thumped so hard he was sure you could see it trying to escape from him. Little angels tickled him and whispered things in his ears to make him laugh and smile. Total unadulterated pleasure: complete ecstasy.

_No problems now._

_Everything is fine._

_Nothing wrong._

_Home is where the heart is._

_No need to fight._

_Enjoy._

…………….

In a dark room lit by flickering candles there was a butcher's bench. There were shelves along the walls covered in dolls of all different shapes and sizes. Floyd sat on a big chair with a few bits of bone, leather and other left over bits and twisted and sewed and made his dolls and listened to the voices whispering in the back of his mind.

_He will never be yours; you cant have him; doesn't want you; he is filth; he doesn't want you; he has stolen from you; he is a pervert; he is filth; he killed Rosie; he destroyed the Clan; his friends will come looking for him; he hates you; you are scum; take him; he cant escape; he is yours if you want him; the boys are having fun instead of you; they will spoil him; you keep breaking him; he doesn't want you; he doesn't need you; he is a whore; you are a whore; you are dirty._

"Oh shut up." He muttered.

………………..


	9. Chapter 9 Lagrange

Lagrange

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

"The two-body problem was analyzed by Johannes Kepler in 1609 and solved by Isaac Newton in 1687. The three-body problem was a central topic in mathematical physics from the mid-1700s until the early 1900s. Various exact results were obtained - notably the existence of stable equilateral triangle configurations corresponding to so-called Lagrange points."

"Be quiet I am trying to sleep."

"What?"

"I said be quiet."

"I didn't say anything."

"Lagrange points?"

"I was dreaming that."

"You dream about the two body problem?"

"Three."

"You said two."

"But I was dreaming about three."

"Maybe you said three too."

"Three two? What are you talking about?"

"And angels – you were going on about playing with the angels a while back too."

"I was dreaming about angels."

"Do you ever dream about me?"

"I have nightmares about you."

"Thanks."

"Welcome."

"So who is Ethan?"

"Pardon?" A slightly worried voice.

"You called me Ethan."

Reid sat up and pulled the blanket around him. "Why would I call you Ethan?"

"Wondering the same thing." Floyd sat up. "So who is he?"

"An old friend. From home."

"Oh that Ethan. The tall good looking gay Ethan."

Sigh "Yes that Ethan."

"The one you hated because he beat you at a spelling whatever thing."

"Yes."

"So why did you call me Ethan?"

"You are getting paranoid. I won't talk to you when you are being like this."

They both lay down again under the blanket. Silence.

"So did you sleep with him?"

"I am tired. I want to sleep."

"I want to talk."

Silence

"I said I want to talk."

"I'm not stopping you."

"So did you?"

Silence – nudging of elbow.

"Spence."

"I am ignoring you."

"Answer me."

"It was a long time ago Floyd."

"So you did?"

"I didn't say that."

"You can't remember?"

"Drop it will you."

Silence.

"How long ago?"

Silence.

"Was he as good as me?"

"Not even close. Now let me sleep."

Silence.

"So why did you call me Ethan?"

"I didn't call you Ethan. I was dreaming."

"Why were you dreaming about Ethan and not me?"

"I told you. I have nightmares about you – not dreams."

"Bad nightmares?"

"Pretty bad."

"Do you scream?"

Spencer sat up again. "You know I do."

"I meant in your sleep."

"So did I."

"It's why I drug you. You realise that don't you? It's so you can sleep."

"Gee and there I was thinking it was so you could abuse me while I was unable to escape."

"That's not funny Spence."

"I wasn't laughing."

"Lay down again."

"I'm not tired now."

Silence.

Floyd rolled over so his back was the sitting Reid and picked up a small metal tube. A hand reached over and took it from him.

"Don't do that. It will kill you."

"Well you won't care – you can go back to Ethan."

Small clinking sound as the metal tube was thrown.

"I'm here aren't I?"

"I had to abduct you again though."

Reid ran his hand over Floyd's hair.

"No – you could have just asked."

………………………

Floyd opened his eyes. Reid wasn't next to him. A quick scan of the room showed he wasn't there. Flanders went to leap to his feet to discover he had been cuffed to a chain hanging from the ceiling. "Spence! You son of a bitch! I will kill you!"

Reid had taken the opportunity of Floyd's deep sleep to try to make it to the surface of this place. He needed a cell signal. He needed to get away, if Floyd caught him now he would be dead. He had no doubt of that. He was limping badly. Both of his feet were in agony now. He had on sweat pants and nothing else, and was running down pitch dark tunnels towards he knew not what. He flipped open the phone to see if he could get a signal. Nothing. The tunnels were curved. He had no idea where he was, or even if he was going in the right direction. He stood in the pitch black breathing deeply.

It was cold and clammy and familiar and it had hold of his ankle. Reid kicked out at it, but it was quickly replaced by another and suddenly there were hands all over him, and the cell phone was gone from his hands and he could smell something familiar.

"Floyd."

"You are walking in circles. Drink this." A liquid was forced between Spencer's lips and a rough hand over his mouth and nose until he swallowed.

Hands holding him still.

"What were you doing?"

"I I I was exploring." A very nasty taste in his mouth

"You were trying to make a phone call."

Silence.

"Who were you phoning?"

Silence.

"Aaron? Ethan? You were phoning Ethan."

Deep sigh.

"I knew it! You dirty whore! Bring him back to the guest room boys."

Reid could feel himself being lifted off the floor and taken back where he had just tried to escape from.

"Put me down. Floyd, listen to me."

"Done listening to you. You are a liar. You are full of untruths to try to confuse me. I've had enough of it."

"Floyd I was telling you the truth." He was dumped on the floor and the boys where told to leave.

Reid got up to his feet.

"Telling me the truth?! You wouldn't know the truth if it jumped up and gave you a hair cut! You cuffed me. You – cuffed ME!" And a slap.

"Don't do that to me! You have to trust me. You used to trust me – try it again." And a return slap.

"You little bitch!"

"Stop pushing me around Floyd. Try asking. Try trusting."

"Trust you – you – dirty – little – whore?"

Another slap on Floyd's face. "Pull yourself together. I am here. I am not with Ethan or Aaron, or whoever your head likes to think I am messing with. I am with you. I have your name. I am with you because I chose to be with you, and you will trust me or I will leave."

"You cuffed me." slightly subdued voice.

"Yes."

"Don't do it again."

Reid's started to sway

"I don't feel too good. Floyd."

"Sit down."

"My head." He put his hands to his face. "Nose bleed."

"Sit down and don't worry. I get them all the time."

"They nearly killed you."

"Nearly. I know what caused it. Let me fix it for you."

"Floyd. I need you to trust me. I have to go to hospital."

"I can look after you."

"I know that, but there is something wrong. I need you to take me to hospital – or get one of your boys to take me."

"No. I can fix it. It's a side effect of the laudanum – you will be fine. Lay down."

"Of what?!" Reid tipped forwards onto this face.

"It's just a pain killer, for your foot."

"Stoopahgak."

"Pardon?"

"You stupid?"

"It's just a pain killer Spence, don't get so stressed over it."

"Its not aspirin." Muffled voice in the cushions.

"Are you OK?"

"Fine fine – I am used to not feeling my legs or arms."

"Oh you still have a sense of humour."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Has your foot stopped hurting though?"

"Yes."

"Can you feel this?"

"What?"

"I am burning the bottom of your foot with my smoke."

"Son of a bitch! Stop it!"

"You can't feel it?"

"Not yet, but I am sure I will."

Silence.

"What about this?"

"What?"

Flanders grabbed Reid's shoulder and turned him over onto his back

"Wondering what else you won't be able to feel."

He sat astride Spencer and looked down at him.

"Floyd get off me." Looking cross.

"I love you so much when you are angry."

"That's lucky for me then. You make me angry a lot."

Floyd smiling. "I might have over done the dosage."

"Might have?" Grinning back.

"You are admitting that you did something wrong?" Look of mock surprise.

"Yes I think I was wrong."

"I will have to profile you all over again."

Silence.

"Spence?"

"I'm asleep."

"Dreaming about me?"

"Yeah sure – if your name is Ethan."

………………


	10. Chapter 10 Rain

Rain

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

He sat huddled under a railway bridge on a bit of damp cardboard. There was graffiti on the walls and the remains of where people had been sleeping. Reid was in sweatpants and trainers with an old T-shirt. He was cold and shivering. It was raining and the whole place stank of dirt and grime. There were used needles on the ground and a few bits of tinfoil. He shuddered, and glanced over at Floyd who was standing in the rain looking up at the sky. Spencer was holding Gideon's phone.

"Come out of the rain. I need you to listen to the call with me. I need you to trust me."

"Just make the call." He walked back under the bridge and lit up a cheroot. "Put it on speaker."

…………

Garcia was sitting in her bunker fiddling with a pen and looking up more info on strange happenings and sudden increases in violent crime in the City of London. Her phone bleeped. She was expecting a call from Derek so she punched a button with her pen:

"Heya sweet thing."

"Garcia."

It wasn't Morgan. She dropped her pen and sat up pushing her glasses back onto her nose properly. She knew that voice.

"You told me to call you if I needed anything." A small hurting voice.

"Reid! Where on earth are you?" She was standing up now trying to get the attention of Hotch out in the bull pen. He looked up and saw her wild gesturing and wide eyes. "Gideon is going wild with worry. Are you alright sweet cheeks?"

"I am fine Pen." Hotch was quickly standing at Garcia's side listening in, a worried look over his face.

Reid's hands started to shake and he was having a problem holding the phone properly. "I am cold. Just cold. It's raining. I said I would call you."

"Why are you cold babe?" A clattering sound and some scrabbling noises.

"Erm sorry Garcia – d d dropped the ph phone. I shouldn't – I sh sh sh shouldn't h h have c c c called you. Please – d d don't w w worry about me."

"How can I not worry? My favourite genius has gone missing again." Hotch started to scribble down things for Pen to ask him. "Erm – are you alone?" Reading the scrawl.

"No. I h ha have to g go. It's t t too cold. Pen, I'm - I'm not m m missing."

"You are sweetness; we don't know where you are." Such a worried voice from the team tech and mumbling sounds from the phone.

"That doesn't make him missing. I know exactly where he is. He is not missing." That was not Reid's voice. That was a voice Hotch knew only too well. "You should get him micro tagged like a dog. Keep better track of him." The line went dead.

………………………..

Reid looked up at Flanders. His teeth were chattering together and his whole body was shaking. "Follow me."

"I can't. I can't stand." Floyd turned back and looked down at Reid sitting amongst the trash.

"When did you last eat anything?"

"I'm not hungry Floyd; I am cold and dirty. I need to wash."

"When did you last eat?" Floyd crouched down next to Spencer and lifted his chin with his fingers. "Spence, you need to eat."

Reid swiped Floyd's hand out of the way. "Not hungry and my feet hurt. Somehow they got cigarette burns on them."

Flanders pulled a bottle from his pocket. "Drink some of this." Reid took the bottle and took off the cap.

"What is it? Laudanum?" he looked at the mixture in the bottle and shook it.

"A mild analgesic. Please Spence, it will help."

"What is it?" opening the bottle and smelling a sweet honey scent.

"I made it myself. It helps my back pains. Please Spence. Drink up; we need to go get some money and food."

"Where from?" Running his tongue over the rim of the bottle. "I'm not hungry."

"Well I am and I need you to get me some money for food and drink. Well mainly for the drink and don't do that with your tongue."

Spencer smirked at Floyd and took a sip of the drink. "How much?"

"Don't drink like that either. Why are you winding me up Spence? One more like that will do."

………..

They walked the streets on London in the rain. Floyd in his coat and boots and hat, and Spence following behind shivering and wet in sweats and T-shirt. Whatever it had been in the bottle had taken the edge off the pain in his feet, but his head was swimming and the world seemed out of focus. He needed to stay with it. He had to keep alert; he had to stay on top of this situation. He could see Floyd walking up some steps. He wasn't sure he could follow. He had no strength left. It had taken everything out of him just to walk on flat ground. Spencer stood and tried to count the steps going up towards the big entrance of

Waterloo Station. His brain and eyes gave up after twenty.

He took a step and held onto the hand rail and then with legs impossibly tired he took another step. He watched his feet. Made sure they moved when he told them to, but they were heavy, so heavy, and he was exhausted.

_Idiot._

_He drugged you again._

_Why are you doing this?_

_There are people here, get some help._

_Go on ask for help._

_Get away from him now._

"I can't."

_You might not get another chance._

_Tell someone what he is doing to you._

_Keep walking._

"I'm trying to"

_He is watching you._

_This is a test._

_Show him he can trust you._

"He can trust me."

_Don't fail now._

_Keep going._

"I can't move."

_You are going to let him get away with this?_

"Go away; I can't deal with you right now."

Reid stood half way up the stairs mumbling to himself in the rain. His nose had started to run, and his eyes were watering. He could hear voices of people passing him on the stairs. High heals of women of the City, and the leather soles of the shoes of bankers and he felt his knees give way and rest on the steps. His hands slipped off the black hand rail and his head tipped forwards to meet the stone stairs. It didn't hurt, but somewhere in the back of his muddled mind he was sure it should have. Hands on him – he could fell someone touching him and a voice. A female voice.

"My god! Are you alright?"

He tired to look to see who it was. A woman in her twenties; probably the same sort of age as he was. City suit and bag helping him to his feet.

"Urm."

"Oh god you are bleeding, let me help you." A nice friendly well spoken English accent. Hands pulling him to his feet. He could feel something trickling down his face. "I can at least get you out of the rain." And she was helping him up the rest of the stairs, and he was helping himself to her cell phone. A matter of survival Reid. This isn't really theft, you can return it later. You are just borrowing it. Where the hell was Floyd? The woman helped Reid up onto level surface again and sat him down on a bench. She pulled a wad of tissues out of her bag and held it over the cut on Reid's forehead.

"Just sit there for a minute. I will get you coffee. Would you like a coffee? Sorry it's my personal policy not to give money, I will get you a coffee though." And she hurried away in her heals. She was soon back with a big Costa Coffee mug and a handful of sugar in packets. She sat down next to him on the bench and pulled the tissues away from his face. "You look like shit."

"Yeah I know. I haven't been well."

"Drink this ok. I am sorry I can't be of more help, but people like you need to start helping yourself first."

"People like me?" He looked into her green eyes and saw she was looking down at his arms. "Oh yes: people like me." And a big sigh.

He sat and drank the coffee, and his stomach complained bitterly over it. If he sat here long enough: he reasoned with himself, the effects of what he had stupidly drunk will have worn off, and he could try to use the cell phone in his pocket. Spencer had no idea what had happened to Floyd and was unsure if he desperately needed him to come back and rescue him from here or to never come back. The drink made his stomach muscles go into spasms. He slowly got up, dropping the wad of bloody tissue to the floor and walked slowly to a big black bin, where he emptied his stomach of the coffee, and of his stomach lining it felt. He heaved until there was nothing left. Then walked slowly into the main concourse of the railway station.

Floyd watched Reid. He saw him take the cell phone. He saw him talk to the woman. He saw the blood and he saw him being sick.

Reid leaned with his back to a stall in the middle of the concourse and slowly slid down until he was sitting. He was shaking now not only with cold but with some withdrawal from something somewhere he had taken or been injected with or smoked. He had no idea anymore. Finding it hard to keep track of what he had taken. He had no idea when he had last had anything to eat. It must be days now and he was finding keeping track of time impossible. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the phone there. He should try to use it. Get some help. Who to phone? He needed to hear a friendly voice. One who will understand. One who won't judge.

With trembling fingers he opened up the phone and stared at the numbers. He decided in the end to send a text message.

'Cm gt me bfor I fone gdeon U bstd'

'u wdnt dare.'

'try me'

Trust: all down to trust. He needed Floyd to believe him.

'm cmg'

'wot'

"I'm coming." A voice above Reid and the smell of food. "I went and got something to eat." He took the cell phone from Reid's hand. "Cute. Looks good on you." He handed Reid a burger.

"I told you I'm not hungry. I just want to lay down and sleep." Reid kept his face down looking at the floor by his feet.

_Don't give in Spencer. _

_You could have called Aaron._

_You could have got away from him._

_Why did you do that?_

"I need him." Whispered

Hands ruffling his hair.

………..

A man sat in an office in front of a bank of computer screens. He was checking video footage of something when an alert window suddenly opened.

"Sir!" he called out of the door next to him. "That phone we had on alert has been turned on again."

…………

They walked to the stairs to the Underground and took the escalator down to the depths of the planet.

………….


	11. Chapter 11 Psychopathy

Psychopathy

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

They swarmed the station, but they were long gone. They looked at security footage and saw Reid with the woman. They saw Reid with Flanders and they saw them walking together. They saw Reid was not being forced by Flanders to do anything. They saw him go willingly with the man who was killing and skinning local prostitutes – or maybe skinning then killing.

They didn't see a psychopath and his victim. They saw a psychopath and his willing partner.

…………………..

He woke up shaking in a sweat and a panic.

"What's wrong Spence?"

"I need a drink."

"You shouldn't drink when you are on those Geodon crap stuff."

"It's not crap stuff. It helps."

"Then don't drink."

"I need one."

Raises and eyebrow.

"You drink too much."

"I have a headache."

"I can give you something for that."

"Erm – thanks for the offer but I don't want your drugs."

"I wasn't talking about drugs."

"Oh right will still a no then, I have a headache. Where is your flask?"

"Get your own damned flask."

Reid needed a drink, and he needed one now. He looked around the weird room they were in and hobbled to a small table with assorted bottles full of different coloured liquids.

"Which ones are drinkable?" He looked back over at Floyd who was laying watching.

"They all are. What are you needing?"

"Pain killer. Something numbing. Something. Don't look at me like that." He picked up one of the bottles and opened it.

Floyd was frowning. "Looking at you like what Spence."

"Like you just wiped me off the bottom of your shoe." He sniffed the contents of the bottle. "What is this?"

"Poppy extract. I wasn't looking at you like that Spence. I am just wondering why you need a drink. Don't drink that from the bottle babes – you need to add it to water." Floyd got up and walked over to where Spencer was standing.

"Don't call me Babes. It's really stupid and annoying." He put the bottle lid back on and turned to Floyd. "Which one then? I need one which won't kill me or paralyze me. Do you have such a thing?"

"Spence – what's wrong?" Floyd put a hand out to Reid's shoulder but he flinched back away from him.

"My name is Spencer – not Spence – not Babes – not those other things you call me. It's Spencer. Which bottle?"

Floyd picked up a small bottle with a clear liquid. "This one." He handed it to Spencer with a frown. "Mild pain killer."

"I need stronger – my feet are in agony. Someone got my ankle smashed then burnt me." He pushed the bottle back at Floyd.

"Fine have it your way. The black pack has powders. Inhale a pinch." He walked away.

"I need a liquid, not your cocaine substitute!" And his arm swept across the table sending the bottles flying and smashing against the wall and floor.

Floyd turned and looked at Spencer standing shaking with – anger – fear – withdrawal? "What hell did you do that for? Have you any idea how long that stuff takes to prepare?"

"Do I look like I care?" He spun on Floyd. "Give me something for his pain!" He was shouting now.

For just a small while Floyd was stunned into doing nothing but staring. Then he took a step forwards and grabbed Reid by his wrist. It didn't take much to over power someone who hadn't eaten for days and was shaking so much to could hardly stand. Spencer was on the floor on his back before he could blink.

"Don't you shout at me boy." A hiss in Reid's ear. "You have forgotten who I am – who – you – are. Filth. You need to remember." A hand in Reid's hair pulling him across the floor.

"Get your stinking hands of me! You are insane!"

"I am going to get you something for your pain boy." Pulling Reid to his feet. "Get up."

"I told you to get your hands off me."

"I don't take orders from you Spence. Turn around and face the wall. I think it's time I took your mind off the pain in your feet."

……………….

The flyers were being handed out across the railway stations in London. They were displayed on the posters on the elevators down to the underground and on notice boards.

Armed and dangerous. Do not approach. Contact – and a number give. Picture of Reid and Flanders taken from when they were at Waterloo station from the security cameras.

Gideon was having a 'talk' with the detective again. He had been rescued from his room about half an hour after the boys left by room service.

"Reid isn't dangerous."

"That is your opinion Mr Gideon. He is willingly accompanying a serial killer."

"He is a victim. He needs to be removed from the situation."

"I know what I saw on the cameras. He took someone's mobile phone and then used it to contact a murderer. He didn't use it to call for help. He didn't ask Miss Williams for help. He then left with the man. He called him and they left together."

"I know what it looks like. He was a member of my team. He has been drugged and brainwashed. We need to remove him. He is a victim."

"Mr Gideon – from the information I have received from the FBI it appears you let this Flanders person get away a number of times. You permitted your 'man' Reid to go with him. You Mr Gideon and your team as such, are a large way to blame on this 'situation'."

"I realise that is what it looks like, but it isn't that simple. If you would permit me to assist you."

"No thank you Mr. Gideon, I think we have this well in hand."

"You are fully aware of how dangerous he is aren't you?"

"Mr. Gideon, we are aware. We do have armed men looking for them. They will not get away."

Gideon opened his mouth to defend Reid again.

"I am sorry he was your friend. I am sorry he has mental health issues. I really am sorry, but this does not change the situation. My best advice if for you to return to America and let us do our job."

………………

Reid slid to the floor in a sweaty heap.

"You bastard." He muttered.

"Do your feet still hurt Babes?"

"I hate you. Don't talk to me."

"You didn't hate me a few minutes ago."

"Leave me alone."

"Still need a drink?"

"And a smoke."

………………..

A gentle tap on the door and Flanders went to see answer it with a sigh. His first boy was standing there with a bit of paper in his hand. "sorry to disturb you. I thought you should see this." And he handed the wanted poster to Flanders. He glanced down at it. "Thank you. I need you to get some boys in here to tidy up."

He went back into the room and look at Spencer pulling some clothes on over his too thin body. "You need to eat Spence."

"Stop nagging me. I really am not hungry." He passed the flyer to Reid. Who held it in shaking hands. "What – what – is this?"

"This is your fault."

"What?"

"You stupid drunk son of a bitch. They saw us at Waterloo."

"NO! You took us there. I wasn't drunk – you drugged me."

"But I was walking and talking like a sane person – not knocking myself out on the stairs because I was too drunk to walk. Not Thieving cell phones. Not walking around like a homeless junky." He stood watching Reid's hands shaking so much he could hardly hold the flyer. "When the hell did you last eat anyway?"

"I I wasn't. I don't know. I'm not – not hungry Floyd. I wasn't drunk."

The boys entered the room to clean up the mess Reid had made earlier. Floyd turned to them. "Boys before you do that – hold this scum down for me."

They dragged him to the floor and sat on his arms and legs and touched him and stroked him as he writhed and struggled.

"Floyd stop it: whatever it is you have planned."

Flanders had a long tube and a flask of something in one hand and weird metal contraption in the other. "Hold his head still. Spence, this will hurt."

The boys were grinning and one of them pushed Reid's chin up while a couple more forced his jaw open. Flanders put the metal thing in his mouth and cranked it open. It held Spencer's jaw open whilst compressing his tongue down. Reid would have screamed if just then the tube was forced down his throat. He tried to get his hands out and pull the thing from him. He had had a nightmare about this. But even then it hadn't hurt like this. He could feel the tube going down, as his gag reflex tried to get rid of the offending object.

"Spence, this is what happens to druggies and alcoholics who refuse to eat. Remember this next time." Floyd poured the cold gloop down the tube into Reid. Once all the stuff was down, Flanders removed the tube with a sucking splatting noise. "Keep hold of him." He ordered his boys, and then removed the thing from Reid's mouth. "Feeling better?" – no reply.

As Reid lay on the floor he could feel whatever had been forced down him starting its journey back up again as Flanders put tape over his mouth. "Don't want you to be sick Babes."

Floyd stood and watched Reid choking on his own vomit.

………………


	12. Chapter 12 Poison

Poison

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

"Yes I can understand what you are saying Agent Hotchner, but this Flanders person is not an American citizen. I think you will find he is Italian Gypsy stock, so I will feel no obligation to return the man to you. – Yes I can hear you Agent Hotchner, and I sympathise with you on this, but they are being treated as a partnership. – No Sir, we have our own technicians. – Yes I am listening to you as I listened to Mr Gideon and my answer is still the same. He had ample opportunity to get out of the situation he was in. He had a phone, who could have called for help. – Yes I am listening, I am wondering if you are." A very long pause as he listened. "Yes I understand, but we do not need your help yet. If later I feel the urge to call for help, you will be first on my list. – Yes I have listened, and yes I know Dr Reid is an American citizen – but right now he's with a dangerous serial killer through his own choice."

……………….

He woke up in a dark corner of a dark room alone. He was secured to a ring by a chain attached to his wrist. His chest hurt from being so violently sick earlier. His throat hurt, his nose stung. He felt like shit. He carefully felt around himself to see I he could work out where he was. Stone floor. Brick walls. A curved ceiling so probably still in the underground complex somewhere. He was wearing his sweat pants and a damp T-shirt. On the floor next to him was a plastic carrier bag. He carefully put his hand inside and felt around. Pack of pills? A small bottle, matches, what seemed to be a candle, a cell phone a small knife a flask with liquid in it. He held the candle with one shaking hand and struck a match with the other. The candle hardly lit up anything in the room, which appeared to be an old storage room. He looked down again at the strange mix of things he had been given. His Geodon – a bottle with Floyds writing on it.

He flipped open the cell phone. It had full battery but no cell reception obviously. Next he picked up the flask he twisted open the top and sniffed it - Whiskey. Floyd had given him the one thing he had refused him earlier. He picked up the small bottle and held it to the light of the candle to read the writing.

_Spence. Drink this when it gets too much._

And under it a small skull and crossbones picture.

He tried standing but the ring he was attached to was in the floor and the chain to his wrist was too short. Spencer sat in the light of his one candle. "I won't give in to you Floyd. I am not going to shout and beg for help."

_You will be dead soon anyway._

"I will be fine."

_You should have got away when you could._

"I didn't want to."

_No one will ever find you here._

"It doesn't matter anymore."

_Drink the poison now._

"Not yet." He picked it up and turned the bottle over in his hand.

_Get it over with Spence._

"I'm not ready."

_You won't be missed._

"Mum will miss me."

_Floyd is the nearest you will ever get to happiness._

"I am aware of that."

_You should have just accepted it._

"I thought I did."

…………..

He sat in the cold and shivered and drank some of the whiskey and checked the time on the cell phone, and took his Geodon with a gulp of whiskey, and the candle was burning away and it was getting colder. He heard nothing and he saw no one. He pulled at the cuff around his wrist until it was swollen and bleeding. He dripped wax on it to make it slippery and try to pull his hand out. He looked at the knife he had been given and looked at his arm. Was he meant to do something? Was this a test or was he just abandoned here. Was Floyd on his way back to America, or onto Europe? Where were the boys? He turned the phone on again and looked at the time. He would run the batteries out if he wasn't careful.

"What does it matter? You can't get out anyway, and there will never be a cell signal down here – But when the candle is gone I can use the phone for light."

He sat and dripped wax in little lines along his left arm. It didn't really hurt. In fact it warmed him up for a tiny while.

………..

If they were looking for him on the Underground then they were too close for comfort. He was cross that Reid had messed it up again. Why did he always mess it up? Time to move on. He called his boys together. All except his number one boy. He had fifteen boys now and he had fifteen small bottles. He called him into a small room very much like the one he had locked Reid in, and gave them each a bottle. "Drink up boys – sleep well." And he locked the door behind them and moved on. He stood and listened at another door. He couldn't hear any movement or calls for help or rattling; only the slow sounds of dripping water.

He could take him with him or leave him here. If he left him he will probably be dead by the morning. He moved quickly down the passageway. He knew they would find him down here. His boy was standing at the junction. Go right and out into sunlight. Go left and die. What simple choices. Why were all decisions not this easy to make. Floyd called his boy over to him and pushed the hair off his sick looking thin face. I need to let you go. I have to move on. He bent down and kissed his boy gently on the mouth and told him to hurry up into the light before someone comes and finds him. Floyd stood alone and watched then slowly returned to the door and stood looking at it.

…………..

Reid lay on his side alone. He had taken four of his Geodon, and he had drunk all the whiskey. His candle was out, and his matches gone, and finally the battery had died on the cell phone. He thought at one time that he heard footsteps and something pass the door but nothing came in. No light, nothing. He tried calling out for help but his throat was so dry he could hardly make a noise now. All he had left was the knife and the small bottle.

_Go on do it._

_Get it over with now._

_He's not coming back for you._

_No one knows where you are._

_Just one sip to see what its like._

_What are you so scared of?_

_You have no water._

_You are dehydrated through the alcohol._

_Finish it now._

_Come on Spence have a drink._

He slipped the stopper out of the bottle and sniffed the contents. It smelt of honey and it made his mouth water. The thought of a liquid on his lips made his head swim. He poured a small amount out onto his hand and licked it slowly, making sure he licked his lips to stop them feeling so dry. If this was the end then at least he could go with moisture in his mouth. Reid lifted the small bottle to his mouth and tipped it back. It was lovely. It was like honey and peppermints.

……………….

Floyd finally opened the door and shone a flashlight into the room. He could see the huddled form on the floor, but there was no movement – too late. He walked slowly over to Spencer and crouched down next to him. Floyd could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and feel a slight warmth in his skin.

"Spence."

Nothing.

He looked at the things surrounding him. He saw the empty flask and the used matches and the open dead phone, and the remains of what had been a candle and he could see the top of the bottle in his hand.

"Spence – we are leaving."

"Leave me here."

"I was going to. I can't."

"Leave me where they will find me."

"I can't." He unlocked the cuff from around the bleeding and bruised wrist.

"I don't want to go with you Floyd."

"You don't?" Genuine surprise in his voice.

"I want to go home Floyd. I want my books."

"I will get books for you."

"I need my friends."

"You don't have friends. They don't love you the way I do."

"No one loves anyone the way you do. It's not love Floyd."

"What? Of course it is." He ruffled Reid's dirty hair.

"Who told you this was love. You have been told this is how someone acts if it is love. That person lied to you Floyd."

"I don't understand. I am teaching you."

"Its not love. It's torture. It's abuse. This is not love."

"Hell Spence, I came back, I rescued you!"

"You put me here, so it doesn't count."

"It doesn't count?"

"Just leave me alone Floyd. Go away before they catch you."

"I can't leave you here. I need you with me."

"Please just go Floyd. Leave me. I need to heal and think. I can't do that with you. You just keep hurting me. I have had enough. I don't want to be with you. I want to go home."

Floyd stood up. "Are you sure? If I promise to stop hurting you?"

"You won't keep that promise." He started to sit up rubbing at his wrist.

"Spence."

"One more chance." He grabbed hold of Floyd's belt and pulled himself to his feet. "What was in that small bottle?"

"Peppermint and honey."

"Oh."

"You are coming with me then?"

"Where else would I go?"

……………………………


	13. Chapter 13 Remains

Remains

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

They knew that them men they were after were hiding in the disused tunnels and stations of the London Underground. They knew from reports from America that they were dangerous. Even if the BAU insisted that one of them was a prisoner, they found this extremely hard to believe. They had calls from people who travelled the Northern Line that these men had been seen together on a number of occasions. One of them it seemed was the dominant partner, but the other was definitely not trying to escape and from video footage they had obtained noted that apart from appearing slightly lame – but they knew he was due to a broken and not very well healed ankle or foot – depending on who you spoke to – he seemed relaxed and happy to be with this other man.

They called in the army. They wanted the tunnels cleared of all and everything. Every passage and man hole and stone needed to be documented and given a number. They had orders to shoot to kill. They were told there were two very dangerous psychopaths roaming the tunnels killing and partially devouring the commuters. They were told that the leader was charismatic and would probably have more than the one follower. They were told not to permit this man to escape. They were told that restraints would not hold him.

The power along the lines was turned off. The Underground Stations closed. Terrorist Threat. He would not get away. All entrances and exits were covered by snipers and marksmen.

The first thing they found was signs that people had been living there. There were disused food wrappers and items of clothing strewn along a long curved passageway. They found graffiti on the walls and they found a series of locked doors. The area was silent. There didn't even seem to be any rats this far down.

They forced open a door and shone torches into a room. It was a macabre sight. Mixture of a butchers shop and a toy store. Human remains hung from hooks and lay on shelves. Stripped bones stood in the corners, and dolls everywhere. They also found boxes of balloons. They would have to get crime scene people down here. They would have to try to identify the rotting remains, and try to find out how many people there were.

The next room found them looking into a laboratory. It was full of jars and bottles and chemicals. They touched nothing. They stood and looked and wondered how this could have been happening literally right under their noses. They would have to find out what drugs or chemicals this mad man had been creating down here all this time.

The next room had a huddle of people in the middle. They called out to them. "Get up off the floor – show your hands – thrown down your weapons." But they were not able to hear. The coroner estimated that the fifteen young men all aged between fourteen and eighteen had been dead for about four hours. They had all drunk poison from small bottles and curled up together to die. It would have been an almost instant death. They later discovered that all the boys had extensive bruising and injuries, and had all been sexually assaulted. Some of them had teeth sharpened to points. Some had metal teeth implanted. They were all underweight and pale.

The next room they entered had signs that someone had been held captive here. There was a mobile phone on the floor, burnt out matches and a melted candle. There was also a small knife, a flask which had contained alcohol and small bottle like the one they had found with the boys. This one though contained a mixture of water and honey and peppermint.

The final room was odd. It had cushions scattered over the floor. Manacles hanging off the walls, and small tables around the edge. Some tables had pipes or lengths of tubing, some had bottles of things to be taken away and analyzed. The room was full of tobacco, alcohol and drugs. There were positive signs that people had been sleeping here. Again a place for crime scene people to investigate.

There was no Flanders. There was no Reid. Just the things they had left behind.

……………….

A skinny young looking man walked into the shop. He looked nervous and twitchy as he browsed quickly through the second hand clothes. He kept his eyes down and the voluntary worker behind the counter noticed how his hands shook when he picked something up to look at it. He found a pair of grey cords and a belt and a long sleeved shirt and finally a zip up hoodie. He pulled money out of his pocket and slid it over the counter towards the woman. She noticed how he had a gash on his forehead which was scabbing over, and she saw the scars and cuts over his arms.

"I I was wondering." His voice was very quiet and not English. "Is there somewhere I can put these on now?"

She looked at this young man who didn't look like he had eaten in days but had probably been sniffing or injecting all his money and sighed. "You can use the back room. Don't touch anything."

He nodded slowly and walked with a limp to a door to the back of the shop. On the door at the back was a poster. He could feel himself shaking as he looked up at his own face. Wanted and dangerous. Do no approach. Reid looked behind him and saw the woman was looking right back at him. With a nervous smile he opened the door and went in to the stock room. Slowly he dragged his old clothes off him and stumbling and dropping things he re-dressed in the things he had just purchased.

He picked up the things he had taken off and stood at the door listening before he exited. He could hear the woman talking to someone.

"I am sure it is him!"

Reid's stomach turned. He looked for a way out of the room and there was nothing. Not even a window. Quickly trying to think what to do he picked up a length of metal tubing which was probably part of the clothes rail and watched the door. Muffled mumbling voices. Slowly he walked to the door and listened again. Silence. He put his hand on the door-handle and opened it carefully. The shop was deserted. With a deep breath he walked across the shop and out of the propped open doorway. He glanced up quickly to see if he could see Floyd. Nothing.

_Move!_

_They are coming to get you._

_That woman called someone._

_Get out of here now._

_Run _

_Run_

_Run_

_Run_

Reid started to walk. He had no idea which way to go, so away from the Tube Station seemed to be the best option. The voices in his head were screaming instructions at him to run, but he didn't want to draw more attention to himself than he really needed to, so keeping to the shadows of the shop fronts as much as he could.

_Run_

_Run_

_Run_

_Run_

"STOP!"

_Run _

_Run_

"STOP!"

"Dr Reid, put your hands where we can see them."

_Run _

_Run_

He carried on walking with one hand stuffed in his pocket and one still holding the tube and voices screaming in his head. There was a slight bend in the road and a shop jutted out in front of the others. Reid looked up at the shop window and saw his reflection. He was dirty and too thin, he looked ill. He looked like a drug addict and alcoholic.

"Dr Reid. Stop."

A voice carried over the ones in his head, and he saw behind him in the reflection of the window a blur of movement. A gun shot. He knew what a gunshot sounded like, and something ripped through his hair and impacted with the glass causing it to shatter. Spencer pulled his hand out of his pocket and moved it to the pain he suddenly felt in his head, the other hand still holding the metal tubing started to rise as he felt something hard punch his shoulder and he was propelled forwards against the shattered glass, through the window of the faux antique furniture shop and onto a small table which he slid across and disappeared over the other side of cracking his head on the stone floor.

Briefly he heard "We got the bastard." And various other things amongst the sounds of people screaming and sirens blasting but it didn't last long. Quietly right in the back of his head a voice screamed:

_SPENCE!_

Floyd stood on the other side of the road and watched. This was not meant to happen. They were not meant to do that to Spence. What the hell were they playing at? He started to walk across the road towards the bedlam in the street.

"Spence?" he muttered quietly to himself. "Spence!" slightly louder and he was running. "Spence!" and guns were pointing in his direction and now he was shouting "You shot my Spence you bastards!"

………………


	14. Chapter 14 Tears

Tears

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Floyd kept walking forwards.

"Stop right where you are." A voice from off to the side.

A child crying and a mother hushing. The flashing from the police car lights was reflecting off the windows of the shops. A crazy light show. All Floyd could hear was his heart thumping in his chest and the blood rushing in his ears. All he could see was the window Reid had gone through and the people standing watching. Standing – why are they not helping?

"You shot Spence. Why the hell did you do that?"

"Flanders do not move another step."

He turned to look at where the voice was coming from and as he turned he grabbed Mary Stoddings by the hair and drew his knife to put it at her throat. "I will skin her here if you don't back right off now." He hissed. The bang came from behind and something scraped across his neck and carried on until it hit the officer he had been looking at square in the face. The knife tightened on Mary's neck as he felt the blood oozing down to his collar, and heard the shouts.

"Officer down!" and the running and more shouting and crying from Mary as her neck bled and soaked the front of her dress.

"Keep walking whore." He hissed in her ear and the noise around them increased. Sirens wailing and shouting of police and civilians and the window Spence had gone through was getting closer.

Police attention seemed to have gone from Floyd to the police officer laying in the road with his brains behind him on the tarmac.

He dug the knife in further to Mary's throat and dragged her to the side of the road and the shop window. "You can go now." He muttered and dropped her to the floor. He pushed his way through the confused crowd of people who had no idea who was who and why someone had been shot – killed? By the police. Still a lot of crying and screaming and noise and the crunching of glass underfoot.

Floyd walked around the table and looked down at Spencer. "Spence? He knelt down at his side and looked at the hole in the back of his hoodie. "Spence babe?" There was blood seeping out from under where he was laying. Floyd gently put his hand on Reid's shoulder and turned him over. One side of his face was red and sticky with blood and the front of his clothing was warm and wet. Floyd sat on the floor of the shop and pulled Spencer onto his lap. He re-sheathed his knife and unzipped Reid's hoddie and looked at the blood soaking his new shirt. He put his hand on Spencer's chest and felt the blood pumping onto his hand and between his fingers.

"Spence." He wrapped the limp and bleeding Reid in his arms and rocked gently.

He didn't hear his name being called and he didn't feel his own blood flowing and soaking him. When the paramedics bounced into the shop with the police they stood and stared.

"We need to help him." One of them finally said.

"Get away from him you sons of bitches."

"Mr Flanders, please step away from him so we can help."

"Don't you touch him!"

"We need to stop the bleeding Mr Flanders. You are Mr Flanders aren't you?"

"He didn't do anything – why did you do this?" And a hot sudden tear fell from Floyd onto Spencer.

He glanced up to see a gun pointed at him again. "You think I care if you kill me now? You bastards." And another tear.

Someone had made their way behind him and was trying to pull his arms off Spencer so the paramedics could get to him. He felt strangely weak and his head was swimming from the blood loss. He felt Reid being lifted from his lap and felt his hands being cuffed behind his back. Then he felt nothing.

……………..

Flanders sat once again at a desk with a police officer on the other side of the table. He had a dressing on his neck; he had cuffs going from his hands to a place on the floor. There was an officer at the door and the detective was talking and talking. Floyd was not listening. All he could see was all that blood on Spencer. All he could smell was the smell of fresh blood, and all he could hear was his heart thumping. The detective tried again.

"Mr Flanders are you listening to me."

"Actually no, not really."

"It would be helpful if you would talk."

"I don't feel like talking to you." He looked down at his hands and saw the blood still there in his mind.

"We need answers. The FBI are screaming for you."

Floyd looked up at the detective. "You will hand me over to them? Don't make me laugh detective – I forgot your name – just don't make me laugh, I am not in the mood for jollities."

"Can you tell me what happened to the young men down in the abandoned tunnels?"

"Don't know what you are talking about."

"Your DNA and that of Dr Reid was found there Flanders, please don't deny you were there."

"Why did you shoot Spence?"

"Personally I didn't."

"Well someone sure as hell did – I saw the hole in him."

"I didn't make that decision Flanders. You need to focus now on what I am talking about."

"I have no interest in what you have to say detective – whatever. I want to know where Spence is."

"Mr Flanders, if I give you that information will you talk to me about the tunnels?"

He nodded slowly.

"Dr Reid is at the police mortuary."

And the world went black.

………………

Reid was propped up in bed with a doctor checking him out. It had been a while now and finally the doctors agreed to let detective Morran talk to him about what happened.

They had Reid on strong antipsychotics and medications to stop the shaking, and more to stop him fitting, and more to stop the sweating, and daily injections of god only knew what else. He was on a drip, and was being very stubborn when it came to food. He was not actually still losing weight but he wasn't gaining any either.

"Can you tell me Dr Reid why you didn't call the authorities when you had in your possession a mobile phone?"

"I had no cell signal."

"You managed to send Flanders a text message with no cell signal?"

"Oh at the train station, oh yes. I had a cell signal then."

"And you didn't think to call because…?"

"It's complicated."

"Then tell me so I understand please. Someone who tortures you and murders and eats people. You are able to warn the police and you don't. What you do is to contact him."

"I need him. I can't explain why."

"Well it's all very tragic, but over now. You can relax. The doctors say you can leave soon."

"Over? What do you mean?"

A pat on Reid's hand. "He can't bother you anymore Dr Reid."

…………….

He woke up laying on a bed in a small room. His vision was blurred. He had no glasses on. Flanders looked down at the clothes he was wearing; hospital pyjamas. His head was swimming, his mind felt wrong somehow. He saw a doctor walking towards his bed. Floyd tried to work out what had happened. Why was he here? What had happened? He looked down at his hands and saw a memory of blood. Spencer's warm blood pumping onto his hands from a hole blasted through his body, and he closed his mind down again.

They stood around his bed and talked about him.

"He has been like this since he arrived. We have altered his medication but he is so withdrawn into himself that we have been unable to communicate with him."

"So unfit for trial."

"God yes, this man will never stand trial. His mind is so far gone it will be a miracle if we ever get anymore than eye contact with him. He is virtually catatonic"

"There is a specialist in this kind of trauma coming to see him next week. We will see if he can offer any suggestions. He deals a lot with drug induced psychosis, but he has agreed to see Flanders."

"Oh and his name?"

"It was a Dr Louis Franco. A native Italian, maybe we can arrange for him to go back there. I don't think there is any help we can offer him here."

Flanders opened an eye. Louis Franco?. HA ! Uncle Lou.

……………

It was evening. Tomorrow Spencer would be flying on a special flight back to America. Gideon would keep him company. They had arranged a hospital for him to stay in when he got there. Another hospital wasn't what he needed. He needed to feel Floyd's hand in his.

He sat and cried silent tears for the man he had lost.

One final good bye as the medications he was on took effect for the evening.

_Floyd._

_SPENCE!_


	15. Chapter 15 Lies

Lies

**A/N sorry for typos and stuff...late night typing is really hard for my hands. **

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Reid was once again in America and in a psychiatric hospital. This time he had been placed somewhere a bit more worrying. This was a long term mental institution- high security unit. Though he had not harmed anyone personally he had seemed unconcerned that Floyd had been. His self harming and masochistic tendencies were also a big matter of concern. He was detached. They had lost him. They had lost him a long time ago, it just took all this for them to finally realise it.

Gideon would come to visit Reid most days for a short amount of time. A quick hello and gone, but that was all Reid wanted. He didn't want long chats over a game of chess. That was the past. That will never come back.

Prentiss sent a card in _'Thinking of you, Emily' _

JJ visited a few times before realising it was hurting her too much to see the man she had totally fallen head over heals for not only not even notice her but then get destroyed by a psycho.

Morgan came to visit occasionally and would tell Reid about his dates and happy times, but Reid never really seemed to be listening, though this wasn't like last time when he would only stare out of the windows, this time he would talk back, but there was no joy in his voice. That little excited lilt to his voice was gone.

Aaron came to visit once a week. He would be careful. He would avoid hugging and he would usually avoid actually looking too closely at Reid. Like JJ it just hurt too much.

Garcia came to see Reid every Wednesday. Star Trek night. She forced her friendship upon him and fed him ice cream and chocolate, and they ate cinnamon popcorn and sometimes life even felt good.

It was a Wednesday evening and Reid had attempted to make his small box of a room comfy for the two of them to sit and almost chat. Spencer liked Garcia. Yes she forced her company upon him, but she also listened and smiled.

They watched The Gamesters of Triskellion, and they laughed at the silly fighting and the stupid monsters and Reid spouted off some Trek trivia which she would never in a million years remember, then they ate their ice cream with stupidly small spoons.

"Garcia."

"Yes sweet cheeks?" She turned to face him.

"Do you think there is such a thing as a soul mate? Do you really think two people can bond forever and never be separated? Do you believe in love at first sight? Do you think you can love someone forever even if they are no longer around?"

"Oh – lots of questions about love – I'm not sure I am the best one to ask these things. My track record is a bit bumpy." And she smiled at him a nasty chocolate grin.

He Grinned back at her. "I still love him."

"Love who sweets?"

"Floyd. I was told he was dead, but he's not." He was watching Garcia carefully.

"Oh babe, I'm sorry." And she looked down at her feet.

"Garcia? Why are you sorry? I heard him. I called him and he answered me."

"I'm sorry." She stood up and grabbed her bag.

"Pen please what!" Reid stood up a bit too quickly and the world span. He put out his hands to stabilise himself and Garcia grabbed his hands.

"I can't talk to you about the case. But love, you couldn't have heard his voice. I am sorry." She pulled him close to her and wrapped her arms around him "I am so sorry."

Spencer felt a great well of grief and despair flooding him. His legs felt like they were going to give way and he held tighter onto Pen. They both sat back down on the bed without letting go and Garcia felt Spencer's heart breaking. A huge shuddering overtook his body and the tears started. She pulled him closer and he rested his head on her chest and sobbed. They held onto each other. Reid crying for Floyd, and Garcia crying for Spencer.

……………

Uncle Lou didn't arrive with the escape plan Floyd was thinking he would. He needed to get out and get his revenge on the bastards who killed Spencer. He had plotted and planned his comeback. He didn't care if it killed him. He was nothing without the need for Spencer, who whole point in his existence was gone, but Dr Franco didn't bring the answers.

He looked at Floyd, he talked to him, and he looked at the medical notes then informed them.

"This man should never be released into the general public again. He must stay locked up forever. Whatever you do don't be fooled by him. Charismatic leaders such as Flanders will trick and lie their way out of any situation, this is why he has been so hard to keep hold of. Don't be fooled by him."

Floyd screamed obscenities at the doctor and tried to tell the authorities that they were blood related but he was ignored. He was a liar. Don't ever believe what Flanders says, he is a compulsive liar. If he says he taken his meds, assume he hasn't. He can't help it, its all part of the psychopathy. They say that if you live of human flesh you will go mad, or is it that only an insane person will make brain soup and happily share it with his friends thinking nothing wrong with it?

………………

The following week showed a rapid decline in Spencer's condition. Once again he was completely refusing food, and he sat for hours looking at the floor. They increased his antipsychotics which in turn sparked off a series of bad seizures which then caused him to feel more depressed, so they increased the phenobarbitol which in turn made him more depressed and sleepy. He didn't respond to Gideon, he didn't even look up at him, and did Morgan visit? He didn't know. Aaron turned up and looked like he had been crying. He wanted to reach out and help the man he had loved but couldn't. It would cause more damage so he left again.

Garcia turned up on her Wednesday visit and Reid was sitting in the lounge looking at his slippers. He saw her and stood up shakily and offered her a chair. Tonight he wasn't in the mood for Trek, he wanted to sit and just be. So Garcia sat down and pulled Reid to sit on her lap and she just held him and rocked him like you would a child, and Reid cried some more.

"They are going to make me eat Pen." A whisper.

"That's not a bad thing love. You need to eat."

"Floyd made me eat – I thought he was going to kill me, but he was helping." She could see tears on his face again.

"I am sure he was only trying to help you." The words were catching in her throat. She knew exactly what that bastard Flanders had been doing to him.

"They can't force me to eat Pen."

"They won't let you starve either. Just eat something for them and they will stop nagging."

"I can't. I have tried. I bring it up again."

"Maybe it's just their sucky cooking. I will come back tomorrow with some lovely soup and bread. How does that sound?"

"Tomorrow is Thursday."

"Yes, I will come tomorrow too. If that is alright."

"With soup?"

"Yes, with soup."

"On a Thursday?"

"Sure, on a Thursday. Is that a problem?"

"No Pen. It's just not a Wednesday."

Garcia decided to stop talking about the days of the week and what day she was going to see him on. It was obviously causing a problem in that big old brain of his.

……………..

They forced Floyd into a straight jacket and injected him with things to stop the screaming and the foaming at the mouth and threw him in an empty padded cell until he decided to calm down and stop threatening to eat the staff.

The staff were only too aware that the threats could occur if they didn't take control now.

He lay alone on the floor of the cell and thought of his Spence and how the blood was all over his hand, and how dead he looked with the blood over his pretty face, and how that should have been him – and the tears fell hot down his cheeks – and in his mind he could still feel the blood pumping between his fingers. He wanted to scream and take Spencer's place. He thought he would be safe.

He struggled against his bonds and spat at the authorities who had put him here, and cried for his lost Spencer until the drugs finally took over and he fell asleep.

A sleep full of nightmares and blood and lost love.

………………


	16. Chapter 16 Reboot

Reboot

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

"Dr Reid." The doctor was sitting on a chair next to the bed Reid was refusing to get out of. "We need to talk about your food intake."

"Not now."

"You do realise what you are doing to your body by refusing food, don't you."

"Yes."

"We therefore need to discuss our options. I cannot permit you to continue starving yourself."

"Go away."

"You internal organs will begin to close down Dr Reid. I won't let you kill yourself like this."

"I don't care. Go away."

"I really don't want to have to force this on your Dr Reid. Can we please try this voluntarily and see how we go?"

"No we can't. Please leave me alone."

…………….

When Aaron arrived Spencer was sitting on a chair in his room with a feeding tube running up his nose and directly into his stomach. Reid looked up at Aaron, and for a second Hotch didn't recognise him. This wasn't the Reid he had worked alongside. This wasn't even the Reid they had rescued from Flanders. This was an empty shell – anything which had once been the man he loved was gone. The only recognisable thing about him now was the dark circles under his eyes.

"Spencer." He sounded sad. He was sad. He had spent the night awake again laying there thinking of how he had failed Spencer, and not thinking of his wife and son. Reid just stared back at him and sighed. "How are you feeling today?" God did he just say that? What sort of stupid thing was that to say? He pulled up a chair and sat opposite Reid. He hated this - this unmoving still version of Reid. They complained and bitched at Floyd for drugging Reid – but somehow this seemed worse. The hands laying still on his lap and the slow breathing. He reached out and put a hand over one of Spencer's. He didn't flinch away, he didn't react at all. He picked Reid's hand up in his and slowly lifted it to his mouth. Aaron looked at Spencer who was looking back at him. The revolting tube spoiling that beautiful face. He gently kissed the back of Reid's fingers then returned his hand to his lap. "Talk to me Spencer. I miss hearing your voice."

Nothing – a cold empty silence.

Spencer watch Aaron get up and leave. He wanted to call him back again. He wanted Hotch to wrap arms around him and tell him everything was going to be alright – but he watched his back leaving through the door and returning to his family. Everyone leaves. No one ever stays. They don't understand – they never have understood.

…………………

He awoke still laying on the floor of the padded white room. His face was sticky and damp from the drool he was laying in. The restraints had been removed and he hurt. It felt like someone had been kicking him. His nose had been bleeding. Too much crap sniffed up it over the years. Or his brain was oozing again. He didn't know. All he knew was that he was going to systematically remove something or someone from those bastard team members who messed up his world. He lay in his drool and worked out what he was going to do. He worked out what he could take from each of those people. There was only one of them he didn't have an overpowering hatred for. He would spare her. She can just sit and wait and wonder when it was going to be her turn.

First he had to get out of this damned place. Then they will experience what a pissed off grieving Floyd is really like.

They came and interrupted his train of thought. They interrupted him – so he interrupted them with his fists and with his mouth and with his teeth. The blood on is face though wasn't from where he had tried to bite an orderlies face off, it was from the baton which had made contact with his mouth. They hit him until he stopped protesting and they put the straight jacket back on him and returned him to his padded room. They stuck more needles in him and left him to bleed and drool and twitch.

Next time he woke up he was laying on a bed. They had strapped something across his face and into his mouth and he had a collar around his neck. His arms and legs were restrained. And something was clamped over his forehead.

"Ah Flanders, awake at last – now we can start."

"uck you!"

"The contraption in your mouth is to stop your biting off your tongue when we get started." They found a vein and stuck a needle in. "A muscle relaxant. Don't want you hurting yourself do we?" and a sickly grin.

They passed enough power through the electrodes on Floyd head to induce a convulsion which lasted about 20 seconds. They then placed him on a gurney and took him to his room. They decided to leave the gag like contraption in his mouth. At least he can't bite people with that on.

In the back of Floyd's mind he could hear someone sobbing. He lay in darkness strapped to a bed and wondered if it was him.

……………

Aaron went home to his wife and child and went through the routine of being the devoted husband, but things hadn't been the same since the business with the photographs. He loved his wife. He would die for Haley and Jack, but something had happened and the bond was broken. He smiled in all the right places, but the smile never moved past his mouth. His eyes never smiled. He cried in his sleep, and Haley knew it wasn't for her he was crying. She attempted to hold him to make it better, to take away the memories of what had happened and he let her hold him and pull him close, and he let her stroke his skin, but something was gone. His heart was somewhere else.

"Talk to me Aaron. I can't stand this silence."

"Haley? We talk."

"I mean about Spencer Reid. Talk to me. Help me understand."

"There is nothing to understand. We let him down and lost him."

"That's not what I mean. Aaron please explain it to me."

"There is nothing to tell. Nothing happened. He was special to me Haley, and I let him down. Not just once. Repeatedly." He went to get coffee and just stood staring at the coffee machine. "I am grieving Haley. That's the best way I can put it."

"But he isn't dead Aaron. You visit him."

"No – that's the whole point Haley."

"Aaron I am so confused. What is the point?"

"That's not Reid. That's not the man I knew. Reid has gone and I can't mourn him because there is no closure." A tear ran down his cheek.

…………….

Spencer stood in the bathroom of the hospital and inspected his face in the mirror. He turned the taps on full, but the water never got hot enough to steam the mirrors. Fingers ran over the mirror and he looked at the redness in his eyes. He turned to the showers and turned the water on as hot as it would go - warmish. Then stripped off and stood under the water. He looked at the marks on his arms then at the scar on his shoulder where the princess had bitten him, then at the jagged scar just below his collar bone where the bullet had ripped through him. He ran his fingers over it and tried to remember what had happened. He remembered leaving the shop – after that nothing.

Reid stood and scrubbed at his skin and tried to remember what had happened that day. He reached up for the liquid soap, but as his fingers wrapped around the bottle it was taken from his hands. He spun around in time for the soap to be squirted in his face and eyes.

They spun him around again. His eyes watering with the sting of the soap, and pushed him against the white tiles – they called him Filth and laughed at the scar on his back and then at the ones on his arms – and Reid kept his eyes closed against the soap and let them have their fun.

_Filth_

_Freak_

_Pervert_

_Scum_

…………..


	17. Chapter 17 Memories

Memories

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. 

Garcia stood and looked at him. Each time he got worse. This place was meant to make him better, so what the hell was going on? She went to find a doctor somewhere and demand some answers.

Reid saw her standing there and he saw her take in what she was seeing. It wasn't pity – it was something else – something deeper. He watched her walk away again and listened to her heals on the tiled floor.

She tapped a doctor on his shoulder. He turned around and smiled. "Can I help you?"

"What's going on with Dr Reid?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Each time I come to see him he looks worse – that feeding tube doesn't seem to be helping. Can we remove it?"

"Miss Garcia, I know he is your friend but we are doing what is best for his speedy recovery. The feeding tube is keeping him alive Miss. He is still refusing to eat."

"Then why does he look worse every time I come?"

"It's purely the effects of the medications he is on. They will make him feel ill for a while before we get the correct dosage for him. The refusal to eat is not helping with the absorption of the chemicals so if when you next arrive he is on a drip, you know why."

"Can I take him outside for some fresh air?"

"Absolutely not. I am very sorry Miss Garcia."

When she got back to Reid's room he was sitting on the bed. She came in the room and sat next to him.

"How's it going sweet cheeks?" And that smile.

Reid pulled his legs up onto the bed and lay down with his head on her lap – making a strange whimpering sound at the back of his throat.

"That bad huh?" She brushed the hair off his face and looked down at him. "Spencer, I am trying to sort this out. I just wish you would eat something. Your hair is all fluffy." And she ruffled it a bit. She then looked down at the side of his face. There was a big bruise beginning to come up, then down at his neck where she could see what looked to be finger tip marks coming up. She looked puzzled for a minute. He also seemed to have marks on his arms and wrists.

"Spencer – what the hell happened? Did someone hurt you babes?" She felt his body shudder. "Who did this? What else did they do to you……?"and her voice trailed off.

………….

When Garcia got home she paced her apartment. She drank loads of coffee, and had three bars of chocolate: eventually she made a call to Gideon.

"I am so sorry to disturb you this late at night sir, but something is very wrong."

"What's going on Garcia?"

"Well really I am wondering if you have seen him recently, and I mean really seen him."

"I pop in once a week Pen. He is not interesting in talking to me. What is wrong?"

"Gideon we have to get him out of that place. He is covered in bruises, they have a feeding tube thingy up his sweet nose, and he is just not there anymore – if you get me."

"Bruises where?"

"Well I saw them on his face his neck, arms and wrists – something bad happened I know it did, Gideon you have to do something to help him."

………………..

They came and checked up on Floyd. He lay with his eyes open staring at the cracks in the ceiling wondering what he had done wrong to deserve this barbaric treatment. The orderlies carefully removed the contraption from his mouth and dripped water in his lips.

"You must be feeling dry." One of them said.

Floyd ground his teeth together but said nothing.

"Right we are going to slowly un-strap you and re-restrain you. Do you understand?"

"Do I look stupid?" He hissed.

"I am not the enemy here Mr Flanders, I am trying to help you feel more comfortable. If you would rather lay here in your own piss for the rest of the day that is your choice. Personally I would take a shower." The man started to walk away.

They took Floyd down to the shower block and helped him remove his clothes. They turned on the shower and watched him enter. They stared at his back. The cuts now fully healed were really quite lovely.

"My god Flanders, what the hell is that on your back?"

"That? Oh that is a small part which is left of me. A small memory."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"A lost love."

They watched while he lathered up and washed. His body covered in scars and bruises. Each one a separate memory. Maybe this man cracked and went mad for a reason.

"Did you really kill and eat someone? Rumour has it you did."

"No – no I didn't. Not the whole. Just bits of them."

…………….

Garcia met up with Gideon to talk further on the subject of Reid.

"We need to tell him the truth. This is so cruel." She had taken her shoes off and was walking a trench in Jason's lounge carpet.

"We can't do that Pen. He can't heal all the time there is that link."

"But this is killing him anyway. I hate lying to him. We are torturing him. I am hating myself for this."

"We can't go back on it now Garcia. Stick to the story. He will get over it."

"I don't think he will Sir. How do you get over losing someone you love just because you are told they are dead? Doesn't that make you long for them all the more?

"You are assuming it was love Garcia."

"No, Gideon. I know it was. However sick and twisted it might be in our eyes."

………..

The next time Reid took a shower he moved the soap. Not that it made any difference. They brought their own.

He spent his day with a tooth brush. He was slowly, very slowly grinding the handle down to a point. He had seen so many shanks before in his job. Making one so it could cut through flesh was a different matter. Hiding it from the staff wasn't easy either. When he couldn't do that he was pacing and being watched. And the more he paced the more they watched and the more he needed to stop them. He muttered and mumbled to himself. Tube up his nose hurt, and he was getting stomach cramps and now he thought he was going to be sick, but that would mean telling someone and they would demand they weighed his vomit afterwards and it was all becoming too much. He could feel the stuff that had been pumped into his stomach earlier beginning to crawl its way back up again. The thought of something in his mouth made him want to scream.

_Just go be sick somewhere._

_What's the problem with that?_

_They don't have to know._

"They know everything."

_They know what's going on in the showers?_

_Don't you think they would stop it if they did?_

"It's them doing it."

"I saw them." He was shaking as his voice got louder.

_You more than saw them._

_You enjoyed it._

"Shut up!" and now he was shouting.

"Leave me alone."

"I can deal with this."

_Way to go drawing attention to yourself._

_Stupid_

_Freak_

_Couldn't even run away._

_Look out here come the orderlies._

_Run_

_Run run run run run run run run_

He turned and ran to the shower room. They were following. He knew they would follow him. He pushed open the door and stood with his back to the wall, and pulled the shank from behind his waistband. It wasn't very sharp yet, but they wouldn't do that to him again. Four big orderlies walked in.

They were smirking and watching their victim.

"Leave me alone."

"I don't think so. You liked it too much."

One of them started to walk towards him.

"Get away from me!" And he showed his attempt at a shank.

They laughed and knocked his hours of hard work from his hand. One grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him down to the floor. Another held his flailing wrists still.

"You shouldn't have done that." hissing in Reid's ear

"Heard you like a bit of rough." Snorts of laughter.

He could smell their sweat and he could feel the stuff in his stomach still trying to get out. As they pulled at his clothing he vomited violently and they laughed harder, and breathed harder.

………

"What the hell is going on here?"

Suddenly everything stopped. The hands left him. He lay still. He knew that voice.

"Reid? What's going on?"

It was Gideon. Oh god it was Gideon. He didn't want Gideon to see him here like this.

"Leave me alone! Everyone just go away and leave me alone!"

The orderlies left the shower room quickly. The door slamming behind their laughs.

Jason bent down and put a hand on Reid's shoulder. "It's only me Spencer."

"I know who you are. Leave me alone. All of you just go away and let me just die." The words were out of his mouth before he thought.

Gideon crouched on the floor next to Reid. "I am here to help you Spencer. This won't happen again."

Reid was struggling to re-adjust the clothing which the orderlies had messed with. He turned over so he was sitting with his back to the wall and looked Gideon in the eyes.

"You want to help me?" He wiped muck away from his mouth.

"Of course I do. Come on lets get out of here."

"Wait – I need to know something." He slapped Gideon's hands away from him.

"Anything. Just ask."

"Floyd. I need to know how he died."

"Anything but that Spencer. Come on. I am going to get Hotch down here and get you out of this place."

……………..


	18. Chapter 18 Copy

Copy

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

**A/N in support of the Writers.**

He considered his options. He knew that if they thought he was crackers he would stay here for a long time, and getting out of here was not going to be easy. Not impossible though. But he needed to reap his vengeance on those people who destroyed the only thing he had ever loved and will ever love. Yes there was Rosie, but that was different. He had been told how he should feel about her. He had watched how others reacted and just copied. With Spence it was different. With Spence it was natural. He didn't have to copy and pretend. He just was and that one thing he could do right had been taken from him.

He looked down at his hand and saw again in his mind the blood pumping and he could feel his head swimming with the pain of the loss. So he was going to play their game. He was going to try to play their game. He needed to work out exactly what the rules of the game were though.

Group therapy session – wonderful: good opportunity to observe the others and work out what he was meant to do. He sat with one leg crossed over the other and his arms crossed.

They started with a saying their names. Fine he could do that. They then had to say how they were feeling that day. Good he could do that too – maybe. Did they need to know he was full of rage and had the urge to kill someone, or did they need to know that he was feeling relaxed but still settling in. He quickly decided on option two – though really that little bald bloke with the odd beard would die and would die that evening. He couldn't stand another day looking at that head. He looked up to see everyone watching him.

"Your turn." The therapist said.

"Floyd."

"Nice to meet you Floyd. Can you tell us all how you are feeling today?"

That bald bloke was licking his lips. He was teasing him. He was filth. Floyd stood up and walked over to him

"Floyd, can you sit back down again please? I don't think you need to be that close to Larry."

"Larry? His name is Larry? What the hell sort of name is Larry?" This wasn't going to plan. He was getting angry. "I was talking to you, you little shit. What are you looking at me for?"

The therapist got up and moved to the door.

"Move another step whore and I rip Larry's face off."

The therapist stopped but pushed a button on a thing on her belt. He could hear alarm bells going off outside the door. Everyone was staring at him so he just did what came natural and bit into Larry's face.

………………..

When he woke up he had a blinding headache and was back in a cell in a straight jacket. He could taste blood in his mouth but wasn't sure if it was his or that Larry's. He had failed. He couldn't even pretend to get through one damned session. How the hell was he going to convince them there was nothing wrong with him? Answer: he wasn't. A new plan was needed – yes people had escaped from this place before, but the security had been increased since. Maybe he could convince them to extradite him to Italy, as that was where he was from? Maybe he could convince them to send him to trial in America? No that won't work, they say unfit for trial? Unfit? He will show them unfit!

………………….

Hotch must have had his blue lights flashing and his siren on to get to the 'hospital' as quickly as he did. The orderlies had been asked to wait in a room while they tried to work out what had happened to Reid.

"Nothing happened to me." Was all Reid would say.

"He went crazy and attacked us with a shank." The orderlies said.

But Gideon had seen what they were doing. He had seen.

Hotch demanded a doctor from outside to come and inspect Reid's injuries. He insisted that the tube was removed from him. No they are not his family they are more than that. They are everything.

"Hotch, I don't need a doctor to look me over. I am going to be alright, just get me out of this place. Please."

Aaron took Reid to one side.

"Spencer, I don't know everything which has been going on here, but I know that what happened to you is a long way from alright. I need these men punished. I need to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. You won't have been the first."

"There is nothing Hotch. Really." But tears had escaped and his hands were twisting. "I I I cant." He whispered.

"I will be with you the whole time. It's going to be alright Spencer."

Reid looked up at Hotch. The tube still up his nose and taped across his face. The remnants of vomit stuck to his hair and huge dead empty eyes. "No Hotch, nothing will ever be alright again. You want gory details of what they did to me in the showers? You want facts and figures and statistics of how often this happens, yes I can give you that, but please don't tell me everything will be alright because it wont; ever."

"I want you to be happy Spencer. I need you to be healed and well. What is it you need? I will do anything." Hotch was almost begging.

"I want Floyd back."

…………………….

Floyd stood up and looked around the room. White; everything was white. He called out. "Let me out of here you sons of bitches whore dogs!"

_Ok maybe that was the wrong thing to say. _

_Calm down._

_They will let you out eventually._

_You will need to eat._

_Unless you ate Larry._

_Not really feeling that hungry actually._

And the painful grief behind the eyes again. He needed Spence. He had never been forced to be away from him for this long before. Yes he had stayed away in the past but always kept in contact via his blog. He can't do that now. They killed his Spence. They took the thing he had been created for. They blasted a hole in the back of his Spence and he sat and felt the blood pumping as he slowly died in his arms. But they didn't even let him do that.

"You bastards!" Shouting and throwing himself at the walls.

He didn't even have the peace of mind that he had comforted him at the end.

"You bastards." Only now he was sitting on the floor rocking and whispering. "I am sorry Spence." And he curled up on the floor again and he could hear someone crying.

………………..

The doctor came and removed the tube on the understanding that he would attempt to eat, or it will go back in again. If the psychosis was causing this problem then they could have the tube removed and have a peg put directly into the stomach. At least that way it wouldn't show. Reid sat with his hands over his face. He really didn't know if he could eat.

"I will try." And a big sigh.

The doctor wanted to look at the injuries on Reid. He looked at the scars on his arms, and he looked at the marks on his back. A bullet hole one side, and brand with FILTH on it the other side. He turned him around and looked at the mark on his shoulder where he had been bitten what to Spencer seemed to be in another lifetime. He saw where the bullet had ripped a hole through his upper chest. And he saw the dead eyes of a man who had seen too much and had too much happen.

The doctor finally agreed to let Spencer go home with Gideon as it seemed the healing process was just not going to happen here. There were strict conditions attached. He was to be electronically tagged. He was to go nowhere without Gideon. He had to eat. If he didn't he would have to come back in and have peg inserted. The medications didn't work properly if he didn't eat. A nurse will visit every day. She will weigh Reid and talk to him. If he protests he will come back in. If Spencer could agree to the rules, then they will give it a go. Any signs of distress from Reid and Jason had an alarm thing to press. If Spencer was finding it too much he also had a button to press. He can bath and shower with the tag.

The doctor spoke also to Gideon.

"I know you have been Reid's support before, therefore we are going to let you do it again. I am worried about the self harming aspect of Reid, and also the strong masochistic tendencies he has. I really do wonder how much of what happened in the showers he actually encouraged."

Gideon stared at the man then said quietly. "I will forget you just said that. I saw what happened. He was not enjoying it. Believe me."

………………

The following day Floyd got his second lot of ECT therapy. This time he seized for 30 seconds.

……………..


	19. Chapter 19 Research

Research

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Reid sat on the bed in the room Gideon had readied for him.

A fresh start Spencer.

Time to start over.

He chewed on his bottom lip. Not possible. No fresh starts available. He had used them all up. Now he just needed the hurt to end, and he knew Gideon knew this too. He still didn't have the answers he needed. Why wouldn't anyone tell him what had happened when he walked down that road back in London. He knew he had been shot at some point. He had injured his head, but he had no details and they weren't going to give them to him. It was something he was going to have to find out on his own.

He had a horrible suspicion that he had killed Floyd and that Floyd had shot him in the back. There seemed to be no other reason they were keeping the information from him. To protect him. Fine, he would bide his time, and carefully he would get the required information from them.

The matter of the tag he had on his ankle which was still not quite right and making him limp on occasion was not something he worried about. He refused to leave the apartment. Everyday the nurse would turn up and weigh him. He had really been trying hard to eat, but it was still a major problem for him. They finally gave him a week to put on weight or they would replace the tube. He spent the week eating bananas. They made him gag, they made him cry, they sometimes made him sick, but at the end of the week he was getting used to the feeling of food in his mouth again and had put on a tiny amount of weight. He just had to keep it up now.

He was talking to the nurse now too. Nothing specific but he wasn't ignoring her. She was a nice woman and she mothered Spencer happily.

Gideon had even seen a smile.

Reid sat for most of the day watching soaps and the evenings reading books Jason brought back for him. All this trauma didn't appear to have slowed his reading speed down any.

That evening though was going to be different. Jason was going out, and Garcia was coming round to keep him company. He had asked her to bring her laptop with her, and maybe a spare? Please? He was tired of the soaps and wanted to do something different during the day. He had decided to write down some of his experiences with the BAU, and write a paper. Would she do that for him? Get him a lap top? Please Garcia? How could she refuse Spencer anything?

They sat together for a while and she told some jokes and laughed at Reid's blank expression. It was lovely to see that look again. That tiny bit of innocence that had never been taken.

He waited for her to go cook the little bit of stuff she was going to try to tempt him with, and made a dash for the laptop. It was fast and bleeped into action quickly. He stuck on headphones and opened a browser. He looked up headlines for a London news paper for the day after whatever had happened. He sat and stared at the newspaper report.

Two psychotic serial killers had been captured London. The two men who knew each other previously had met up and been living in the underground. One had been shot by the police when refusing to stop the other taken away.

Reid looked at the report again. Only one of them shot. He ran his fingers over the scar on his chest. The hand on his shoulder made him jump and let out a little squeak.

"Hey babes you shouldn't be looking at that. Jason will get me arrested." And she started to close the lid of the lap top.

"Stop! Garcia, this doesn't make any sense. I was shot by the police?"

"Sweet cheeks, you don't need to know the gory details. It's upsetting for me to see that. I don't know what it must make you feel like." And she slammed the lid shut.

"I don't understand. It didn't say Floyd was shot, just me. They took him away, so how the hell did he die?"

A ping from the kitchen saved Garcia. "Dinner! Come on lets nosh."

He grabbed hold of her hand. "Penelope – I will eat anything you want if you tell me what happened."

"I would love to Spencer. I can't. You know FBI and secrets and everything." She wrapped her fingers around his and started to drag him to the kitchen.

"Pen no! stop – let me think." He pulled his hand away again. "That happened in England. FBI not involved. Tell me what happened. I thought you were my friend Pen; please just tell me how he died."

"I can't. Now can we eat?"

"Why wont anyone tell me how he died?!" He was shouting at her now.

"He's not dead!" And the words were over her lips and in Spencer's ears before she could stop them.

………………….

The alarms sounded the same time everyday. They tested them. It would therefore be at ten in the morning he would leave this place. He had no plan. If he died in his attempt it didn't matter really. He had lost Spence. If he died getting his revenge it really didn't matter too much. The problem right now was that he was still in a straight jacket in a padded cell and he tried to kill anyone who came near him. They had shot him full of drugs but his anger over everything was increasing the longer they kept him here.

He closed his eyes and saw Spencer's dead face. He opened them and saw the blood on his hands. This was driving him insane. And at that thought he laughed for three hours. He laughed until he couldn't breathe and the medics had to come in and give him oxygen. The beginnings of a plan crept across his mind. He just needed to keep it clear enough to form a proper living plan of escape from this place.

……………….

The next day he had another lot of shock treatment. They gave him such a zapping that it left burns on his forehead. He fitted for 45 seconds. They made note of it.

He spent the rest of the day laying on a bed on his side with his eyes watering thinking of Spencer and trying to work out how to escape while he still had a brain left.

Right in the back of his mind he could hear someone screaming. It might have been him.

……………..

So the alarm was tested at the same time every day. Therefore it cant go off again. There was a cute worker who would come at night and polish the floors. He was the perfect mark. Floyd made a point of talking to him. He made a point of getting very close to this young man with the long dark hair. He encouraged this young man to bring him in cigarettes, and in return he gave this young innocent favours. Anything he wanted. Anything to get him out of this place. He didn't have to be loyal anymore, not now Spence was gone.

They found Ryan Levers raped and torn body at eleven in the morning in a cupboard. He was missing his passkeys, fingers and eyes. His car was found abandoned along a country lane. A young woman was laying dead next to the car. Her car was missing.

Floyd was nowhere to be seen.

……………..

Spencer sat in his room at Gideon's place. He had promised Garcia he would say nothing to them about what she had said. He gave the laptop back, and he sat and wondered why the people who were meant to be his friends were all lying to him. The only person he would talk to was Pen. Jason considered returning Reid to the hospital when he hadn't spoken a word for three days.

"Talk to me Spencer!" Jason pleaded.

"I have nothing to say to you."

**A/N bwah to errors...dont care.**

……………………


	20. Chapter 20 Revenge

Revenge

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

**A/N: Just a quick thank you to all my loyal wonderful readers and reviewers.**

Hotch got a hysterical phone call from Haley at around mid-day. They were away on a case and a long way from home.

"What do you mean he is gone?"

"I went to his room – he's gone!"

"Calm down Haley, when did this happen?"

"About as long as this phone call has taken, Aaron where are you!"

"Call the emergency number Haley; I will be back as soon as I can."

"I need you here - Oh - oh - oh god no!" A strange whimpering sound and the line went dead.

Aaron tried calling back but it went straight to answer-phone. He called the police. He called everyone he could think of, and then he told he team he was leaving. Carry on without him. Thank you. Goodbye. And with and white face and terrified expression he left.

………….

Haley went to wake Jack from his mid morning nap. She was surprised he hadn't awoken already. Maybe he was coming down with something – she hoped not. Haley hated to see Jack unwell. She walked up the stairs of their comfortable house with a fresh beaker of juice for her darling son. She stood at his door and listened out for his gurgling chatter. Silence – so still sleeping. Maybe should could leave him for a half an hour. He was such a man and got so grumpy if she woke him up, but today she was feeling lonely with Aaron working a difficult case which kept him away from her and she needed the comfort of seeing Jack.

Quietly she opened the door to his room. It was quite dark with the blinds pulled down. They soothing smells of a young child wafted up her nose and something else, a strange smell. Haley walked to Jacks sleeping place. No Jack. No Jack? How can there be no Jack? She ran to the blinds and pulled them open. The light sliced across the darkness and showed her nothing. No Jack. She stood and stared for a while. This is not right. He must be here, she must be dreaming? Having a nightmare? "Jack?" a funny scared squeak.

She felt like a fool, but she still checked under the bed, and looked in the wardrobe. She pulled the covers back off the bed – you know to make sure he wasn't somehow magically hidden. She left the room in a panic and checked the bathroom. Nothing. Silence and then screaming -

"Jack!" over and over until her voice hurt. She ran down the stairs and picked up the phone. He hands shaking so much she couldn't think what to do. Call Aaron – he will make this nightmare better.

She pressed the speed dial for his cell phone and waited. He answered almost at the first ring.

He said he was coming straight home and to call their special emergency number and she looked up and saw it. There standing in the lounge, holding what looked like a small child covered in blood by its hair.

"Oh – oh – oh god no!" And he was at her side taking the phone from her hand. She made a funny sound as he pulled the phone cord from the socket in the wall with one hand and then smacked her in the face with his fist.

………………

Aaron could see the blood. Up the walls in his hallway. Over the carpet in his lounge. Along the hallway floor – and then he was grabbed and dragged from the house.

"Jack." Was all he said and then he was sick in their pretty flower bed. His head was swimming and his heart racing. A tentative arm around his shoulder.

"Hotch." It was Morgan. "You shouldn't be here." He attempted to guide his boss away from the slaughterhouse which used to be his happy – almost – comfortable home. Somewhere safe.

"Where else should I be? I should have been here. I should have protected them from this." His voice was shuddering and tears were falling quickly from eyes which had cried too much recently for someone else.

"Man, you know that's not right."

Hotch looked up at Derek "Find the bastard who did this Derek. Help me find who did this. Help me find them."

……………

Derek and Emily walked the scene together. It was grim. So much blood. Foot prints over footprints as the unsub had walked back and forth through the mess he had left behind. No obvious finger prints, but the CSU would be checking that. No forced entry so they had to work out how someone got into Aaron and Haley's safe home. There was nothing. Just blood everywhere. There was a large blood pool in a work surface in the kitchen, and smears over knives and skin stuck in graters, and clumps of hair in the liquidiser. Emily carefully opened up the large refrigerator door and saw packs of red oozing meat on the shelves. Her hand went to her face in horror. Morgan stood beside her and looked.

"Emily, he didn't have time to do this. He must have brought this with him. There wasn't time. The cops arrived too quickly from her call to have had time to do this. Even Hankel couldn't have managed this much damaged in three minutes."

"That might not be Haley." Was all Emily said as she closed the door of the fridge again.

Now all they could do is wait. Wait for forensics to come back with an answer. If this wasn't Hotch's family, then who was this spread all over Hotch's home and where the hell were Haley and Jack?

……………..

Gideon sat down on the bed next to Reid. "Can you tell me what's bothering you Spencer? Have I done something wrong?"

Reid turned his head to look at the man he had trusted and shook his head. "You tell me Jason. Have you done something wrong? Should I be able to trust you?"

"I don't know what has brought on these trust issues Spencer, but I feel you need to talk to the nurse about them. Talk it over with someone."

"Get out of my room Jason, and leave me alone. I am not talking to that woman again, she records everything – reports back to the hospital." Reid turned back to looking at his twisting hands.

"I will have to advise that you return to the hospital if you stop co-operating." He looked at the untouched food on Reid's side table.

"Don't threaten me Jason."

"Then tell me what has happened. I am worried about you Spencer. You are showing classic signs of paranoia, you have stopped trusting those people you knew were safe. I need you to explain why." Jason put a kind hand on Reid's knee.

"Get your hand off me. Don't touch me Gideon. I don't want you near me. Go away and leave me alone. I have a reason for not wanting to trust you." He pushed Gideon's hand off his leg. "Everyone always wants the same from me. Keep me locked away. Hurt me, abuse me, and throw me to the wolves. You won't be doing that to me. Get out of my room."

……………..

Reid stared at the nurse as she got his daily medications ready for him, and she chatted away. "You are not very chatty today Spencer." She said cheerfully.

"Sorry – I was unaware of the required amount of words needed to prove I was sane." He snapped at her.

"Well that's a start, can you tell me what is bothering you?" Smiling a smile too bright and unreal.

"You are bothering me. They are bothering me." He took his meds from her and swallowed them down. "He needed to stay alert, and these helped. They stopped the voices, and right now he didn't need those voices confusing him.

When the nurse left she had a quick word with Gideon while Reid picked up the newspaper and took it too his room. He came back and took a roll of tape from the desk drawer and went back closing his door behind him.

Pulling the sheets out one at a time he took them to the window and began the careful process of covering the glass. He then covered the front of the small television screen with paper and unplugged the phone. He needed to think, and he didn't want them listening into his thoughts.

………………

If you know where to go, and if you have contacts, then you will not be overly surprised that the selling of children for drugs is a good business. Selling a blonde healthy boy will give you good credit, especially if you promise more later. This is just a teaser. Just something for them to have a bit of fun with, but it will also come with a good price.

Floyd swapped the screaming child for a good dose of something to put up his nose later that day. Now he had sorted the child he could concentrate on the woman.

She had seen him. This was his problem now. Initially he was just going to scare the crap out of her. Make her insane with fear, but now he would have to kill her. Not a problem really. It didn't bother him. It just meant more time, and maybe less fun if she wasn't going to remember this forever. Floyd thought back to an incident Reid had talked often to him about and he smiled. Perfect. He knew what he was going to do with Agent Aaron Hotchner's wife.

………………


	21. Chapter 21 Dug

Dug

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

He kept her for a while in the back of a car he had 'borrowed'. He kept her drugged and sleepy and he kept her gagged and tied up. Although this was eventually going to end he may as well drag it out for a little while. But only a little while. He had a lot of work to do, and what he had done so far had not really taken the edge of the grief he was feeling.

The car was parked in the woods. It didn't matter if he couldn't get the car out again. That wasn't really important. What was important was the depth of the hole he was going to stick the lovely Haley Hotchner in. It didn't matter if she was found. Actually it would be rather delicious if she was. So much pain for Agent Aaron Hotchner to feel imagining her last moments – unable to comfort her as he was unable to comfort his Spence. The anger boiled inside him again. The pain tore through any remains of logical thinking as he dug the grave he was going to put Haley in.

…………

Reid made a call to Garcia. "Come over as soon as you can." He was whispering. "I need you to remove this thing from my ankle"

"What are you whispering for?" Whispering her reply to him. "I cant remove it Sweetcheeks. I will get in bad trouble for that."

He chewed on his bottom lip "They are listening to me. Can't talk on here. Just get over here and remove it."

Garcia pulled a worried face at the phone. "I can't take it off. I will come over, but I can't remove it love."

"Fine." Still whispering. "Bring me something to cut it off with then."

"I can't!"

"You can, or I will tell them what you told me." Hissing at Pen.

"I don't take kindly to your threats. I can't remove it. I will come over and chat – I won't remove it."

"Pen – bring tin foil with you please; a couple of rolls and some masking tape." Whispering – whispering – be careful Spencer.

"I can hardly hear you – what's going on?"

But Reid put the receiver down and turned around to see Gideon standing there.

"What's going on Spencer?"

"Nothing. Pen is coming over." Looking at the floor.

"I think she is going to be a bit busy for a while. A nasty case. She won't be available to entertain you for a while."

"I need to talk to her. She will come." Reid started to walk away.

"What's with the newspaper over your windows?"

Spencer turned back to Jason. The darkness around his eyes was bad today and Jason noted how Reid's hands were shaking worse than they had been for a long time. He was worried. Something was going on, and he could see Spencer ending up back in the hospital. The last place he wanted this young man to be.

"You have been in my room? I have no privacy. You lie to me and – and – and you watch and listen to me!"

"I haven't lied to you. What do you think I have lied about?" And very nasty feeling ran through Gideon's mind. He knew – he knew Floyd was alive, but how much did he know, and should one falsehood cover another?

……………..

He dug a three foot deep trench and stood back smiling. He went to the boot of the car and opened it. Haley stared back at him with terrified eyes. Good. Hopefully when they find her they will see that fear. They will feel the pain he needed them to feel. He grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her out of the trunk.

"I have been busy. See that?"

She looked at the hole in the ground and tried to beg him not to do this, but Floyd didn't listen to whores.

"At least I didn't make you dig it yourself. You will be able to think of that while you die." He watched her wiggle on the ground. He feet tied together and her hands behind her back and the gag in place.

……………….

The crime scene unit were quick. They were able to confirm quite quickly that the blood was not from Haley or Jack. It was human blood however and they were human remains in the kitchen. They just needed to try to work out who it was. It was for show. I was to scare. It worked. It worked well. Hotch was scared. It was confirmed that no fingerprints were found that shouldn't have been. The only lead they had were tooth marks in some of the lumps of flesh found in the fridge. The lab might be able to find saliva on it. They would try. They would do all they could to get Hotch's family back. To return his loved ones.

The team tried to figure out who would do something like this to Hotch and they just kept coming up with the same name.

JJ contacted the British officials to see if their nagging suspicions could be correct. But surely if he had escaped again they would let them know, wouldn't they. Apparently not. He had been missing for over a week. How were they going to tell Hotch that they thought Flanders had taken his family?

…………….

He dragged Haley to the edge of the pit then kicked her in. It would have been lovely to have heard her screams but he didn't want to risk someone hearing her. She tried to kick, she squirmed she cried and her eyes were huge with fear.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked her. He wanted to make sure she knew why this was happening.

She nodded slowly.

"Do you know why I am doing this to you?"

This time she shook her head.

"Do you feel pain for the loss of your child?"

And she squirmed and wiggled and cried.

"Imagine how Aaron will feel. Imagine how much loss he will feel."

She was nodding her head wildly.

"Now multiply that by whatever number comes into your head, and it won't even begin to describe the loss I am feeling for Spence."

And now she looked puzzled.

"What's wrong, you think I don't mourn my loss too?"

She nodded slowly but still looked puzzled.

"You think Aaron will miss you more than Spence?"

And she was shaking her head.

"What's wrong Haley? Does Aaron cry for Spence. Was his heart broken?"

And vigorous head shaking again.

He stood and looked down at her. Something was wrong. He needed to clear his head a bit. Where the hell was that stuff he got for the kid? Should he bury the bitch first or clear his head. Floyd walked back to the car and lay down on the back seat. He pulled a small pack from his pocket and took a pinch of the powder and put it on his thumb nail and inhaled.

He dreamed of Spence. He saw him in a room with newspapers on the windows. He saw him looking angry and sad. He wanted to hold him and make him better, but the scene changed and he was back at the furniture store holding him and all he could see was the blood spreading over his chest and the life leaving his eyes.

_SPENCE!_

And he cried in his drugged state at the memories of a reply

_FLOYD!_

………………

When he opened his eyes it was raining. The sound of the rain hammered on the roof of the car. He lay and thought for while. Where the hell was he? His head was thumping as he sat up and looked out of the steamed up car windows. Slowly he opened the door and walked over to the edge of the pit he had thrown Haley in. The rain and likely her mad scrabbling had caused the sides to cave in. He could just about see the top of her head and part of her shoulder under the thick mud.

"Bugger I missed the fun."

He walked back over to the car and collected his things together and then walked out the way he had come in.

"Now Agent Aaron Hotchner can start to feel the pain I am feeling."

…………….


	22. Chapter 22 Clooney

Clooney

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**!!A/N: I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!**

* * *

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

His next target would be Derek Morgan. Well to be more exact Clooney. This would be far easier than what he did to Hotch. That was messy, but he needed him to hurt. This to Floyd was the final proof that he didn't actually have a problem. It was everyone else who had a problem. He wouldn't feel this need to cause pain if he didn't feel anything.

"Stupid people!"

He tied his long hair back and sat next to a stream and shaved any facial hair off he could with his knife. He lit a cheroot and stood and thought about what he was going to do next, and how he would go about doing it without getting his brains shot out by Morgan.

Derek Morgan who found it amusing to tease Spence – who thought it funny to tease about how special Spence was. He was going to tease him back and make it hurt like he hurt Spence. He needed to be able to blend in though, and what he was wearing now was not good enough. He needed to not look like a psychotic serial killer on a murder spree. He was aware of that much. He knew what he needed to wear; he just needed to find it on someone he could take it from.

He formed a plan.

That evening saw Flanders with his hair down again standing in the park. Watching for the right person. He needed someone his own sort of height and weight. Someone slightly taller would be fine. He needed a well cut suit and pockets full of cash. If his mark wasn't willing to do this his way then he would just alter his plan slightly.

……………………

Sod the thing on his ankle. He needed to go out. He needed to get away from whatever it was listening to him. He got dressed in brown cords and a white long sleeved shirt. He slipped his watch over his cuff and then a dark red sweater vest over his shirt. It hid how thin he had become. He needed to go and walk around the library and smell the smell of books and read some new words. He appreciated that Gideon brought back stuff for him to read, but he was an adult, and wanted to choose something to read for himself.

He was picking up his messenger bag out of the hallway cupboard when Jason spoke. "Where are you going?"

Reid looked at the man he used to trust and no longer did. Maybe it was best the kept him close. "The library." And he put the bag over his shoulder.

"I need you to stay in for a while." Jason looked worried.

"I know something has happened. I can see it in your eyes Jason. Why won't anyone tell me? Why won't Pen come over?"

"Sit down Spencer. I need to tell you something." And Jason was walking to the kitchen and pulling out a chair for Reid. "Please Spencer."

Reid sighed and put his bag back down again and followed Gideon to the kitchen. He poured himself a coffee and found some chocolate in the fridge. "Go ahead; I think I know what you are going to say." He sat down and dunked the chocolate in his coffee.

"Hotch." Not the word Spencer was expecting to hear. "Something happened yesterday morning."

Reid thought the world was going to stop. His heart thumped in this chest and his chocolate fell into his mug. "What – what's happened to Aaron?"

"Someone has taken Haley and Jack."

"Haley and Jack?" Thank god – he thought Hotch had been killed.

"It's nasty Spencer. Garcia is going to be very busy. She can't come over."

"Well obviously. Who took them? Why did someone take them? Have they had a ransom call?" His eyes were flicking around the kitchen. He was thinking.

"They don't know who took them, but they have a suspect. They think they know who the unsub is Reid."

"Can I- can I help? I would like to help Hotch." He was getting to his feet and heading for his bag again.

"Spencer sit down. Morgan and Prentiss are coming over to talk to you." Still that worried look was on Jason's face.

He sat down with a thump. "To talk to me about what?"

"I don't work for the BAU, I don't know the details." His hands were palm down on the table. Reid watched them. "He seemed to be telling the truth."

"OK, but I haven't been out of here for weeks – I don't know how much help I can be." Reid looked puzzled now. "They don't want me for my brain do they? They think I know something."

"Please just let's see what they have to say. I will stay with you if you want." Looking at Spencer and taking in his reaction.

Reid nodded. "Fine the library can wait. Hotch is more important. When are they coming over?"

Gideon looked at the clock on the wall. "About another ten minutes I would think."

………………..

Reid didn't really want Gideon around whilst he had a chat with Morgan and Prentiss so Jason stayed in the kitchen and cooked up something he thought Reid might eat whilst the others went to the lounge. It had been a long time, and the atmosphere was odd. Reid didn't feel uncomfortable with them, just different. They sat holding mugs of fresh coffee. Reid still had the one the chocolate had fallen into.

Prentiss was sitting trying not to stare at Reid. She had never seen him so thin and ill looking and he was on the mend? This was him looking better? She didn't like to think of the state he had been in.

Morgan looked over his old partner and wanted to look happy to see him, but the circumstances stank.

"So you heard something has happened to Haley and Jack." Prentiss said.

Reid nodded and looked down into his mug.

"We need to ask you some questions, Reid." They both looked nervous.

"I haven't left this apartment for weeks. Check with the tagging people. I have only been here."

Morgan nodded. "We checked."

"Oh." And his hands were shaking and the coffee was at risk of spilling.

Emily reached over and took it from him. "We had to be sure Reid. Sorry."

He let her take the mug from him and looked at the bookshelves behind Morgan. "You thought I had something to do with taking Haley and Jack? You thought I would do something like that?"

"I'm sorry Reid." Morgan said. "No we didn't think you did this. We need to know if you have been in contact with anyone."

Oh it was all falling into place now. They wanted to know if he had been in contact with Floyd. The man they let him think was dead. So now they need to tell the truth.

"Garcia, I have been talking to Garcia and the psychiatric nurse and to Jason. I haven't seen anyone else." He looked at them looking back at him. "That's not what you meant was it?"

"Flanders." Morgan said, "Have you been in contact with Flanders?"

They looked at Reid's hands twisting and his eyes scanning everywhere in the room except them. "How could I?"

"We are sure he is responsible for this." Prentiss said and Reid grinned at her.

"Right, you tell me he is dead, and as soon as something happens you put the blame on him? There is more than one psychopath on the planet. I can give you statistics on the likelihood of a dead psycho taking hostages."

"Reid." Morgan's voice. "Please, has he contacted you? Haley and Jack are in danger. Hotch needs your help."

"No – no he hasn't contacted me. Tell Hotch I am sorry."

……………………

Mr Suit finally arrived. He was a youngish business man with plenty of money and looking for fun in the night-time park. It was a good suit too, and it would look good on Flanders. The guy was walking slowly looking around. Looking for someone to pay for some fun in the undergrowth. Not Flanders type, but sometimes you have to do these things if you really want something. Floyd stepped out in front of him, in much the same manner he had done to the boy back in the park in England.

"Fancy something to smoke?"

…………………...

One broken neck and a tiny bit of abuse later, and Floyd was suited and a whole lot richer than before. He pulled his hair back again and tied it securely. He felt his face for stubble and it still seemed not so bad. His hands were shaking though. He needed to get a drink before he went to do the next thing on his list.

He tested his new guise by wandering down the road and going into a store for a bottle of whisky. He also picked up some disposable razors and a pack of ten latex gloves and some dog treats. It went well. No one looked at him funny, and he didn't feel the urge to kill anyone. Flanders felt calm and almost content. He just needed to keep his mind on what he needed to do and off that image he kept getting on the streets on London.

…………

He knew they would be busy. There was no way Agent Derek Morgan would be at home tonight. Either they had found her body or not, either way the man would be working and Jack would be out of the country by now, so that would keep them busy for a few days at least. He didn't really care one way or the other if they located the boy and if they hadn't found the Agents wife by the morning he would have to call and give them a location. He needed to know Aaron was in pain.

He sat on the motorcycle he has taken and looked across at Derek's house. This was going to be sweet. Slowly he got off the bike and walked towards the dark empty building. He pulled a whistle from his pocket and blew gently. It made no noise, but a dog somewhere started to bark. Wonderful. He checked the dog treats and the knife and quickly entered the shadows. A place he felt safe. The knife glinted in the moonlight.

"Here Clooney." He whispered.

………….

Hotch was obviously not working this case. None of the team were – it was too close.

Prentiss and Morgan reported back on their chat with Reid. It really didn't seem like he knew anything, except he wasn't surprised that they were asking if a dead man had contacted him. If they had known better they would have thought he was playing games with them over this. Except they knew he had been no where. The phones were being tapped now, so if he made contact via the home phone they would know. They would also know if he used a cell phone. The apartment was being closely monitored. The fears he had of being watched and listened to had become real.

Hotch was in his office. He refused to leave until he had something he could cling to. A small bit of hope that whoever had taken his family was keeping them safe and warm.

The call was put through to Derek as he sat at his desk pretending to do paperwork. He put his phone to his ear and listened.

"The son of a bitch!" He suddenly shouted, and flipped his phone shut.

Prentiss looked over at Morgan with big eyes. "Haley – Jack?" she whispered.

"Some bastard has skinned my dog." He got up and walked quickly to the men's room. Prentiss followed him not caring it was a men's room.

"Derek, we know who is doing this." She put out a hand to the man standing in front of the basins splashing water on his face to cover his tears.

"We need to warn the other team members. If this is some twisted revenge for – Prentiss we need to let him know Reid is alive. We need to lure him in."

He pulled himself up and wiped the water off his face with tissue.

"No Morgan. I know what you are thinking and we can't use Reid as bait."

……………

The tall good looking guy in the expensive suit booked a room in a local motel and had a look at what he had to do next; A call to someone with the location of the wife maybe later. Right now what he needed was a drink and some substance – any substance anywhere to take that pain away again.

He stripped off his suit and lay on the bed in his shirt and boxers, and drank his whiskey and sniffed something up his nose, and drank something green from a small bottle and finally he closed his eyes and slept.

He dreamed of Reid again. A slightly too thin Reid and he was talking to Morgan and Prentiss. He had an electronic tag around his ankle. He thought how he had once suggested they tag him like a dog. Maybe they would have. In his dream he told Reid how to remove it with a pair or spoons and a bar of soap.

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**!!A/N: I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!**

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	23. Chapter 23 Dreams

Dreams

**!!A/N: I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

He woke suddenly. He had been dreaming of Floyd. Nothing new there but this dream was different. He rubbed at his eyes and looked at his clock – four in the morning. He sat up and reached out for his glasses. He fancied a drink. Nothing new there either really. Slowly getting out of bed and pulling on his blue robe he left his bedroom and walked to the lounge. Reid clicked on the small table lamp then walked over to the small drinks cabinet. Gideon kept his bottles of wine here and now Reid fancied a drop or two of red wine. He settled back down on the big leather couch with the now open bottle and looked down at the tag around his ankle. Surely he had proved he could be trusted now. No funny turns for a while. He was talking again, and taking his meds. He had even removed the newspaper from his window. Strange that, he couldn't really remember why he had done that in the first place.

He got up and walked into the hallway. His messenger bag was still there. He felt inside it and pulled out a pack of smokes and a lighter and then grabbed a saucer from the kitchen, and went back to the couch and wine. Dirty habit he knew. Would make him smell quite vile – he knew that too, but there was some compulsion pulling him to do this. He didn't want to burn. He didn't really want to smoke, but he did need this drink. He looked down at the tag again. Spoons and soap.

Reid went to the kitchen and got a couple of spoons and picked up the bottle of liquid soap from next to the sink and returned to the couch and his drink. He lit up again and sat staring at the strap around his ankle. He thought of the dream he had, and wondered if it could really be removed that easily. It made an odd kind of sense that it could be.

He bent over his foot and inspected the scars and lumps where there never used to be any then at the strap around his ankle. Stupid idea; you can't remove this with soap and two spoons, but he was pumping the soap onto his ankle and pushing the spoons into place. One quick push and twist and the band just popped off. Now all he had to work out was how he knew how to do this.

He closed his eyes and lay back on the couch clutching his nearly empty bottle in one hand a spoon in the other.

_I miss you._

And he was sleeping.

……………….

Floyd was planning what to do next. He wanted to hurt Gideon, but was unsure where to hit him. Thoughts of the cabin came to him. Gideon's safe place; the place he went to for quiet comfort. Yes the cabin. He would take the cabin from him. He would leave it standing, but would make it so he would never want to return to this hidey hole in the woods. He knew exactly where the place was. He thought back to when princess exploded with anger. That was slightly amusing now. Yes the cabin would be the target for Jason Gideon. Let him feel the pain of loss twice. He was sure he was already hurting.

He was dreaming of Spence. He was dreaming of Spence at that cabin and that sad hurt face which he needed to make better.

_I miss you too._

And he could hear someone crying. It might have been him.

……………..

When Spencer awoke to the smell of coffee he realised someone had put a throw over him and taken the bottle from his hand. He had been crying but he couldn't remember why. The bottle had been taken from his hand, the spoons and soap were gone, and the tag was on the coffee table. Spencer pulled the cover further over himself. There was something nagging in his head this morning apart from the need for something else to drink. He slowly got up with a splitting headache and a very nasty taste in his mouth and walked to the drinks cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of gin and unscrewed the lid.

"Spencer?"

Gideon's voice suddenly so close made him jump and almost drop the bottle.

"Jason."

"A bit early for a drink." He took the bottle from Reid's hand. "Come and have coffee."

Spencer watched the drink being returned to the cabinet. "I have been thinking – can we take a trip to the cabin for few days? A change of scene."

"I don't think that's one of the best ideas you have ever had." He was walking back to the kitchen. Reid stood and looked at the cabinet door and with shaking hands opened it and took the bottle back again.

"Not one of my worst either." And he was taking the top off the bottle again.

Jason called from the kitchen. "Eggs alright with you this morning?" And the drink was sliding down his throat. When he turned around again Jason was standing holding out a glass to him.

"At least drink it properly." Reid took the glass from Gideon.

"Thank you."

"Another thing you need to talk about at some point Spencer."

"No, this is not something I want or need to talk about. I am in control of this." He poured himself a good helping and passed the open bottle to Jason then he walked to the kitchen and the smell of cooking.

……………..

Floyd awoke with the desperate need for a drink. He rolled over on the bed and looked at the bottle of whiskey. Enough left for the morning. His head was swimming with the remains of the things he had taken to get him to sleep.

He pulled out a small pack of grey dust and ran the clear plastic pack between his fingers. He needed to just lie down for longer. To think. To work out what to do: too many strange dreams about Spence, upsetting his train of thought. He wanted to go to the cabin. He had a desperate need to go there. Something was pulling him.

…………….

"So we can't go to the cabin?" Reid noticed that his hands had stopped shaking now –this was good. See under control – no problem here.

"Out of the question. Just bad memories there Spencer."

Spencer chewed on his bottom lip. He really needed to go to the cabin. He had a desperate need to go there. Something was pulling him.

He sat down at the kitchen table. "Please Jason. Just for a few days. That's all. I feel I need some closure."

"How will my cabin give you closure?" Jason was giving him that patronising look again. Like he was a child – Reid looked away from him. He needed a cigarette. Why this sudden urge to smoke and drink? He walked back out of the kitchen to the lounge and located his smokes and lighter and picked the saucer he had used as an ashtray and returned to the kitchen, where he lit up and took a deep lungful of smoke.

Gideon watched him closely – but didn't say anything.

"I don't know. Maybe because it's where princess died? I need to go back. Don't worry about it. The first thing I have asked you to do for me since the trip to England and you say no – fine – fine wonderful don't worry about it Jason. I don't want to get in the way of your happy family plans. I will find my closure somewhere else." Reid sounded pissed off and maybe a bit drunk.

"Closure for what exactly? Which bit of this mess are you needing the cabin for closure?"

He slowly pushed his food around his plate.

"It wasn't all a mess you know." He put his fork on the table.

"It looked like it. You were drugged raped abused beaten almost killed – which bit isn't the mess?"

He looked Jason in the eyes.

"The bit where I love Floyd."

………………

**!!A/N: I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!**


	24. Chapter 24 Terminal

Terminal 

**Final chapter in the series.**

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**!!A/N: I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!**

* * *

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

They found the car parked in the woods. They found a collapsed trench, and they found Haley. Forensics were over the scene like locusts. They found hair and fingerprints. They found all the evidence that this was Floyd's doing that they needed. There was no sign of Jack though. No clue as to whether he had been there. Which in some ways was a comfort, and in others horrific.

……………

Flanders got hold of a vehicle and still in his suit and with his hair tied back he started his drive to Jason's cabin. He drove carefully. Something felt wrong in his head today. The headache was back with a vengeance, and his vision seemed to be off. Almost like someone had drawn black lines down his glasses. His nose was bleeding heavily and wouldn't stop. It was dripping off his chin and down the front of his shirt. This was more than just a nosebleed, and he knew it. He still felt a bit drunk, and more than a bit under the influence of some chemical or another, so the slow careful driving was needed. Last thing he wanted now was to be stopped by the traffic cops.

The road to the cabin was windy and rough. It was killing his head, and each bump made his nose bleed even more. As his head began to spin and his hands shake he stopped the car in a small lay by at the edge of the woods.

Floyd sneezed.

Something splattered on the window. Big clots of blood stuck there then slowly slid down the glass. Floyd sat and watched it. He put a bet on which lump would make it to the bottom first. He won his bet. He cheated.

He took his glasses off and looked at them, but removing them didn't seem to be making a whole lot of difference, his sight was still off and somehow very wrong. He threw them over onto the passenger seat and held his hands up in front of him. His hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking. How much further to the cabin? Should he take something now to stop the shakes or carry on? He sneezed again this time covering his hands in clots of thick almost black, dark red blood.

"Shit." He ran his sleeve over the area below his nose as a high pitched whistle started screaming in his ears. He pulled the small green bottle from his pocket and took a swig. It made him cough and with the cough came another sneeze and a fresh flow of blood. He could feel something tickling the sides of his neck. Something warm and wet. He didn't want to think about it. He just needed to get to Jason's cabin before it was too late. Slowly with sticky blood smeared hands he restarted the car and very slowly began the final bit of the journey.

…………….

Reid put his hand to his face and sneezed. It made his ears ring and his eyes water. He pulled over the car he was driving. Jason's car, and looked at his face in the mirror. He had a nose bleed and a screaming headache. Probably on par with the headache Gideon would wake up with. He hadn't wanted to do that, but Jason was not going to let him come up to the cabin, and this is where he knew he had to be. The pan over the back of his head had come surprisingly easy. Jason was now secured to the radiator in the bathroom of their apartment. He would be fine, but Reid just needed to be at the cabin. By the time they caught up with him he would have arrived.

He sneezed again and his hands were shaking with the white hot pain shooting through his head. He reached over to the passenger seat and pick up some cigarettes and a lighter and lit up. He leaned back on the seat and closed his eyes. Reid had no idea what was going on, but everything felt very wrong. It felt like creatures were inside his brain eating away at it. Under his skin eating at his flesh, and they flies…too many flies everywhere; buzzing in his head and behind his eyes and crawling through his hair. If he could reach the cabin it would all go away.

Spencer wondered what Floyd was doing. He knew in his heart that he had taken Haley and Jack. He denied those thoughts in front of his old friends but he knew, because somewhere in the back of his head he saw it happen. He saw Floyd dig a grave and he saw the rain, and he saw Haley struggle against bonds and the sides of the grave falling in. He saw Floyd standing there. Yes he knew.

He turned on the ignition of the car and wound down the window throwing the butt of the cigarette out of the window. It was cold. Bitterly cold but somehow it made the headache die down a bit.

……………

The car ground to a halt. He still had a little way to go, but if he stayed in the car he would kill himself before he got there. He opened the car door and slowly climbed out into the winter afternoon. It was cold. Not raining, just very cold. Had his nose been clear he would have been able to smell that odd scent of snow on its way – but he was doubled over in pain watching his blood drop in lumps to the hard earth at his feet. He pulled himself upright and carried on the way he had been driving. He didn't want this to end out here in the woods laying in the road. He had plans. He needed to complete his plans. He wanted Jason to feel a loss – nothing could ever compare to the loss he was feeling, but it would be his final protest.

Flanders walked. He walked slowly and he walked in a large zig-zag towards his target. His hair had at some point managed to be mostly out of the band he had used to tie his hair back with and was stuck to sweat and other fluids on his face. He coughed up blood and he sneezed blood, and he lit a cheroot. "These will be the death of you one day." And he grinned to himself.

He could see the cabin in the distance, but seeing was becoming harder and harder. It was suddenly so dark - A creeping darkness sneaking in around the edges of his blurred vision. The noise in his ears deafened him to all else. Just a constant scream – sound like the demons from hell coming to get him and take him home again. He shook his head and immediately regretted it as the darkness folded around him and he blacked out on the road facing the cabin.

……………..

It started to snow. Reid put on the windscreen wipers and drove even slower. He was finding it harder and harder to see the road as the snow fell heavier and heavier. He took off his glasses to see if it helped, which it didn't, but he kept them off anyway and also wound up the car window again as he was getting snow on his lap. He looked down to brush the snow away when he crunched and smacked into something in the road. His body slammed forwards held by the restraints and the airbag went off. "Fnuff" was about all he managed to say. His neck hurt. What the hell had he hit? He could see nothing through the snow, and now an airbag, and his fuzzy vision. He pushed open the door and unclipped the seat belt and climbed out into the snow.

Walking around Gideon's car he saw he had hit another vehicle. "Damnit." He muttered and went to see if the other driver was alright. It seemed the car was abandoned. The driver's door was open so Reid stuck his head in to have look. He wasn't expecting there to be blood. There seemed to be a lot of it. Over the windshield and over the steering wheel, but the air bag was in tact. He looked over at something laying on the passenger seat and saw a pair of glasses. With shaking hands he leaned in and picked them up. He would know those anywhere. Floyd's glasses. They had smears of blood on them. On the floor was an empty whisky bottle and he could smell Flanders. This was his blood. He was here somewhere.

Reid's head started to swim. There were no foot prints in the snow, and the car was standing on the earth, so he must have left before the snow started. Reid looked in the direction he must have gone and sneezed, then followed.

……………..

He awoke shaking and shivering in the cold snow. Slowly Floyd picked himself up. He left a bloody sticky mess behind him. There was no sound now and his vision was badly marred by patches of sight which was either dark lines or circles of black. He pushed his hair off his face and half crawled to the cabin door. Obviously it was locked so he used the side of the building to hold himself up and made his way to a side window. Break ins had never been a problem for Floyd and he was sure he could have just unlocked the front door if he could have seen properly to do it. He elbowed the window and smashed the glass out. It didn't matter. Just another bit of damage for Jason to look at.

Floyd climbed in the cabin and looked around. Just a quick lay down before he started. Just one more rest. He stumbled towards the bedroom.

…………….

Gideon had managed to get out of the bonds Reid had rather clumsily put on him. Almost like part of him hadn't wanted to do this. He picked up the phone and contacted Morgan. He told him that he thought Reid had gone to the cabin and that somehow he was in contact with Flanders. They needed to get out there as quickly as possible. Yes he knew it was snowing, but the man who killed Haley and took Jack was out there and Reid was on his way to meet him. Morgan, Prentiss and a bunch of SWAT were on their way. This time Flanders would die. This time he wouldn't be escaping.

………….

Spencer stood and through his unfocused eyes looked at the blood in the snow. He followed the blood trail to a broken window. His head screamed with agony, his eyes watered and he started another nose bleed.

"So much blood." He muttered quietly to himself. "Why is there so much blood?"

He climbed through the window of the cabin and looked around. Nothing seemed to have been touched. He looked down at the floor and saw the blood trail seemed to be heading in the direction of the bedroom.

"Floyd?" He called.

Nothing.

He walked slowly to the bed room door. It was closed but there were smears of blood over the handle and door frame. Actually now he looked there were bloody hand prints over the walls leading this way. He cautiously turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Floyd was laying on his side on the bed.

"Floyd." Spencer said again but still no response. He moved slowly to the bed crawled over to Floyd and lay down behind him.

"It's me. It's Spence."

……………

Floyd could feel someone lay down behind him. He felt the arms wrap around him and he felt the warm breath on the back of his neck, and in his dream he heard Spence, and felt him pull him tight and close.

He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, and somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear someone crying, and he knew it was Spence.

Spencer felt Floyd take a deep breath and then exhale. Then nothing.

…………..

He didn't feel them take Floyd away, and he didn't hear them talking to him. They tried to get him to respond but as Floyd had said, they were bonded. One couldn't survive without the other. Not fully, not completely. Not ever.

………….

END

**A/N No happy endings…sorry. /sigh**

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**!!A/N: I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!**

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	25. Chapter 25 This is the End

This is the End.

_Life, death and __rebirth__ are inevitable. __- Rig Veda _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

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**A:N: - Its been a while coming…but finally a bit more of Underground. The epilogue.**

It was dark and cold. His breath seemed to be holding deep down inside. It felt like an eternity since he had gulped in some air to his hurting lungs. He ran a hand slowly over his chest and could feel the big ugly Y shaped scar with the clumsy stitching. Did they have no respect? He deserved better than this.

Very slowly he sat up. For a short while his head span. Putting a hand to his face he realised his eyes were taped shut. He pulled off the tape but was still in complete darkness. Moving his hand up he could feel a scar along his scalp and most of his hair was gone_. 'Bastards – why the hair?' _There was a plastic tag tied to his wrist but he couldn't read it in the dark. He slowly pushed the sheet off his body and swung his legs over the side of the thing he was laying on. He wondered why he wasn't in a cold drawer somewhere. Not that he wanted to be but that was normal wasn't it? Maybe someone was coming back – in which case he had to move a bit quicker. He bent down slowly and pulled the tag off his toe. Floyd reached over for the sheet and wrapped it around his chest. Putting his hands out carefully in front of him he walked forwards hoping to find a wall. The first thing he found as a corpse. Laying on a table much the way he had been. A young man by the feel of it and he definitely got a feel. It made Floyd's ice cold blood warm up and rush to his head and then down again.

He smirked, but no time now. No time. He had to get out of this place. He found the young mans face and planted a deep kiss on his mouth. _'Sweet dreams.'_

He then quickly swapped the tags over – easily slipping the one of his wrist and putting it on the other guys and then the tag removed from his toe and Floyd's slipped on in its place, with a _'Thank you.'_ He moved further to find the wall.

Three more paces and he was at a wall. Now to figure out which way to go. He put the fingers of his left hand gently on the wall and cocked his head to one side and listened.

Flanders walked to the left keeping contact with the wall with his finger tips. Five steps and he could feel the edge of the door. The door handle was a large thing you had to pull upwards. Again fingers on the door and listening. He pulled the handle upwards and slowly opened the door. A glance up at the security cameras and then a little smirk.

The walk to the janitor's closet was quick. He pushed open the door and slid in. A light switch took him out of the darkness and he had a quick look around. Nothing – an overall. Not anything he could use. He turned the light off again and sat back on a tub of something orange and waited.

It wasn't a long wait until the door opened and someone stepped in. Closing the door and turning on the light. The last thing the guy saw was the fist. The last thing he felt was his neck getting twisted. Nice and clean.

The body was quickly stripped of jeans and sweatshirt. A wallet in his pocket good. Best of all a knitted cap. The trainers didn't fit, but that was a small problem. He pulled the tub of orange stuff out of the way and stuffed the dead bloke behind it. Then pushed the tub back again. He reached up and removed the light bulb. He didn't seem to notice the heat. Floyd dropped the bulb down on top of the corpse. Then carefully he opened the door and closed it silently behind him.

……………………..

Two hours later the corpse of Floyd Flanders Franks was wheeled down to the crematorium. He was sealed in a body bag. Agent Aaron Hotchner stood along side Jason Gideon and Derek Morgan and watched as finally Flanders was destroyed.

…………………….

Hotch was sitting at his desk in the office. Life needed to go on. The authorities were still out there looking for Jack. He had said his goodbyes to Haley. Now there was nothing. He sat and stared off into the distance.

The telephone ringing made him jump. He slowly almost like he was underwater picked up the telephone.

"Hotchner." He spoke into the receiver.

"H h hotch? It's Reid. I've been sleeping."

……………………..

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**A:N – short but had to be told. Thank you.

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